Chapter 92: Qilin Stirs!

“Qilin?”

Li Guanyi’s brush, dipped in thick ink, was about to land on Xue Shen’s face, but froze at those two words—not merely because of this mythical beast, but because in Yue Qianfeng’s tale, Taiping Gong, after subduing the southwestern regions, arrived in Jiangnan with the pearl of a barbarian chieftain.

The one he rode was the Qilin.

In the vast Chen Guo, such a divine beast could not possibly exist twice.

Xue Shen smiled and said, “Yes, Qilin.”

“If you’ve heard his story, you should know this: he once raised his sword and slew a winged tiger; the giants of the northern realm fled in disgrace, and Chen Baxian rose to fame—so consider this: why did that winged tiger suddenly leave its home and come to the Central Plains?”

Before Li Guanyi could answer, Xue Shen had already given the reason.

“In ancient times, a winged tiger was called Qiongqi. In the southwestern region, there was a great Nuo ritual involving twelve divine beasts; Qiongqi was one of them, its body as large as a city gate, its towns powerless to stop it—just one lunge could smash into a settlement, devouring people like crushing ants.”

“Its roar was like thunder. He fought with his sword for three hours, killing that Qiongqi; his final strike, the Mountain-Crushing Thrust, pierced its skull and elevated his weapon into a divine blade. And the reason Qiongqi came here was because it carried within it a tiny divine beast.”

Li Guanyi said, “Qilin.”

Xue Shen said, “Correct. Qilin—the king revered by all beasts.”

“It resembles a tiger, yet possesses dragon traits—scales and fur coexisting.”

“Chen Duke chose Jiangzhou, far from Zhongzhou, as his fief—not merely to avoid the imperial court, but to hide this secret. Almost everyone who knew it was killed by him.”

“Except me.”

Xue Shen smiled faintly. “Because he couldn’t beat me.”

“When he discovered I had moved my Xue family’s ancestral land right to his doorstep, you should’ve seen his face—it outdid any opera actor’s, pure theatrical delight.”

Li Guanyi ignored Xue Shen’s smugness and said, “A young Qilin?”

Xue Shen held up his hand to measure. “Yes. Back then, it could fit inside his battle robe, as big as a large dog—more like a big spotted housecat than a divine beast.”

“It was a fire Qilin, orange like a ‘silver bed, golden cover’ tabby kitten.”

“Look at its size.”

“I suspect it was born and immediately snatched by that man. Since ancient times, good and evil exist as yin and yang—coexisting. Qiongqi was evil; Qilin, auspicious. That Qiongqi stayed there, waiting to devour the newborn Qilin and become a purer god of evil.”

“Chen Baxian killed Qiongqi—and found the Qilin instead.”

“At first, he was ecstatic. Ancient generals all loved divine blades, armor, and divine beasts. Qilin always ranked among the top ten in the list of divine beasts. Fire Qilin, though a Five Elements Qilin, wasn’t the original, purest auspicious beast.”

“But for a general, a fire Qilin—four feet treading flame, able to fly after maturity, whose roar made all beasts submit—was a far better war beast than any phoenix. One breath of fire turned even Iron Futo into molten iron.”

Xue Shen said:

“I suspect that old bastard had already prepared his imperial robe.”

“He was just about to put it on.”

“Too bad, he later learned that divine beasts like Qilin take at least five hundred years to mature.”

“Another five hundred years to reach youth.”

“Their lifespan is at least eight thousand years.”

“Chen Baxian, though a famed general commanding a hundred thousand troops, lacked the Golden Muscle and Jade Bone foundation, endured countless battles, bore over a hundred wounds—he couldn’t survive long enough for the Qilin. So he hid the fire Qilin in Jiangzhou City, hoping some future descendant might become an unparalleled general worthy of the Qilin’s recognition.”

“In your time, has the Qilin matured? Even if not, it should be rideable by now. A Qilin aged five hundred to two thousand years can breathe flames, be bathed in fire, and strike terror into all beasts.”

Li Guanyi raised an eyebrow. “So what if I know about the Qilin?”

“I can’t take it with me.”

Xue Shen said, “Not necessarily. Back then, Chen Baxian couldn’t beat me. I held the Qilin for a long time and had Yao Guang leave a mark—a technique. Divine beasts like Qilin have excellent memories; those they recognize, even a thousand or several thousand years later, will never forget.”

“With that mark, you can at least approach the fire Qilin.”

“Tell it you’re an old friend. Whether it recognizes you—that’s up to you.”

Xue Shen smiled. “Well?”

Li Guanyi sighed, dropped his brush. “Fine. I give in.”

“What’s the method?”

Xue Shen extended his hand, making the Bai Hu’s spiritual form emit a special resonance—like inviting play, pouncing, frolicking, movements vivid and lifelike. He smiled. “Back then, when the Qilin was young, I used Bai Hu’s transformation to accompany it for years. Now, after centuries apart, seeing its childhood companion again, it won’t remain indifferent.”

“I’ll teach you how to play with it.”

Li Guanyi smirked skeptically. “...That’s it?”

Xue Shen burst into laughter. “Ha! We humans may wield power to crush mountains and fill seas, but our lifespan compared to divine beasts like Qilin is as distant as heaven and earth. Yet centuries are real—equivalent to human years, it’s like an aged, weary man meeting his childhood friend again.”

“Such bonds—even a tiger-like beast won’t remain unmoved.”

“How much less so a Qilin, an auspicious beast?”

“Isn’t this bond far greater than those of Chen Guo’s nobles?”

“Besides, Chen Baxian’s descendants—if they carry his bold, heroic spirit, fine. But if they’ve become dull, ordinary princes and marquises—who can resist the temptation of Qilin blood? Go see for yourself. If the Qilin suffers now, take it away.”

Li Guanyi froze.

Xue Shen whispered, “Even in Chen Baxian’s time, countless sorcerers and alchemists told him Qilin blood could brew an elixir of immortality. He expelled them all.”

“A man like him—selfish, bold, loyal, lawless.”

“He trusted only his spear.”

“But his descendants? They may not resist the temptation.”

Li Guanyi nodded.

At that moment, thoughts rose in his mind.

【Taiping Gong’s mount was Qilin】【Chen Guo’s imperial family may crave Qilin blood for immortality elixir】

Could these be connected to my parents’ fate?

He suppressed the thoughts.

That day, Xue Shen told Li Guanyi how to interact with the Qilin, what it liked to eat, what qin melodies it favored, then waved him off. “Go now. When this realm ends, who knows when we’ll meet again.”

The realm ended; the starlight vanished entirely.

The silver-haired girl extended her hand; boundless starlight swirled and transformed, finally dissolving into countless prism-shaped crystals.

Yao Guang caught the gathered starlight.

Then placed them inside her satchel.

Li Guanyi said, “Shall we go to Jiangzhou City together?”

The silver-haired girl shook her head, raised her hood.

Only her silver temple hairs and smooth chin remained visible; her voice calm: “Don’t worry about me. Disassembling this realm still takes time. In five days, I’ll finish. I’ll remember your aura—whether you’re in Jiangzhou City or anywhere under heaven.”

“I’ll find you.”

“Our pact isn’t over. You needn’t fear I’ll leave.”

Li Guanyi looked at the girl, nodded, turned, and left. Yao Guang’s eyes remained still, recording the starlight’s movements within the realm. But soon, hoofbeats returned. She turned—the youth had come back.

Li Guanyi placed something beside Yao Guang.

Inside, opened: various pastries.

Yao Guang glanced.

Li Guanyi reached out.

Under the girl’s eyes, he picked up the straight, smooth stick used for roasting buns.

Li Guanyi said, “I’ll take this. When I’m gone, don’t roast buns yourself. No—don’t cook at all if you can help it.” The girl always got lost in books while roasting buns; when she snapped back, the buns were hard enough to be used as projectiles.

Yao Guang looked at him, voice calm: “Alright.”

Li Guanyi, reassured, left her ample rations, pastries, vegetables, repeated his warnings endlessly, then mounted his horse and rode off. Xue family’s procession departed tomorrow; he couldn’t return late. Yao Guang watched the boy depart.

She turned, walked back to her original spot.

Reached out.

Rummaged through the large satchel.

Pulled out one prism crystal.

Placed it carefully beside her.

Pulled out a book.

Tossed it aside.

Flipped through again—this time pulled out a stick, straighter and smoother than the last.

The silver-haired girl raised the stick, examining it under starlight.

Her face expressionless.

Yet somehow, a hint of pride.

She clenched her fist around the stick and drove it downward.

Perfectly inserted into the ground, she skewered a bun atop it, lit a campfire, and opened her book.

Read.

………………

On Li Guanyi’s birthday, he ate with his aunt. Murong Qiushui was as usual, merely warning him not to cause trouble in Jingcheng. That day, she made him play the qin and play go, defeating him three games in a row before letting him leave.

On the day of departure, Murong Qiushui saw Li Guanyi off beyond the Xue residence.

She merely said the summer heat was fierce—don’t wear too much, but don’t drink too much ice either, or it would harm his body. Li Guanyi nodded to each request. When the Xue family’s procession urged him repeatedly, he mounted his horse. “Aunt, go back. No need to see me off.”

Murong Qiushui smiled. “It’s fine. I’ll stay here until you’re out of sight.”

Li Guanyi couldn’t refuse. As the procession moved forward, he turned back once—still saw his aunt’s figure before the Xue mansion gate. Only after rounding a corner did she vanish.

Xue Daoyong said, “You and your aunt have a good bond.”

Li Guanyi nodded. “She raised me herself. She’s the only person I’m truly close to in this world...”

Murong Qiushui publicly calls herself Mu Lin.

In the past, Li Guanyi often quarreled with his aunt, but now that he was leaving the city, the grand sacrifice was still twenty days away, and after the fifteen-day ceremony, it would take over a month before he saw her again—he found himself missing her. The scenery on either side held little interest; the Xue family’s procession was long, carrying gifts for various high officials and nobles.

Xue Daoyong rode ahead, speaking with Li Guanyi about matters: once they entered the city, do not provoke trouble, but also do not fear it. He informed him that after arrival, he would be assigned a post in the capital; Chen Guo’s bureaucracy was bloated, with ranks, nominal appointments, and actual duties. Li Guanyi currently held the rank of Junior Seventh-Class Zhenwei Captain, with no actual assignment.

After entering the city, he would receive yet another new assignment.

Li Guanyi nodded, gazing at the scenery on either side. Between Jiangzhou City and Guanyi City lay over three hundred li; the Xue family’s procession traveled fast enough to reach their destination in a single day. Li Guanyi noticed that every dozen or so li, there stood a relay station, filled with carts and horses, hosting people from all nations, who drank tea and ate there.

The meat laid out on the outdoor tables was exceedingly abundant, often left half-eaten.

Foreigners arriving did not need to pay silver.

They then all praised the Central Kingdom for its true wealth—vast land, abundant resources, refined people. At first, relay stations appeared every fifty li, then every thirty, then every twenty.

Along the road, monks and Daoists mingled, as if holding a grand forum on the Dao.

There were also elaborately decorated carriages; stretching across the riverways, flower boats stretched endlessly, nearly obscuring the entire river system of Jiangzhou City, vast and magnificent, their grandeur unmistakable.

Yet amid this overwhelming spectacle, Li Guanyi saw many common folk.

Their faces bore exhaustion as they hurried outward. One elderly man, leading two children, walked swiftly—perhaps the weather had grown too hot, and after too long under the sun, he stumbled and fell forward.

The fallen commoner, the monks and Daoists, the foreign travelers passing by—such stark contrast.

Li Guanyi frowned, dismounted, and went to help the old man. Another young man, with copper-toned skin, also reached out to assist. Their eyes met. Li Guanyi felt the old man’s pulse and said, “He hasn’t eaten in a long time. The heat is too intense. Find some shade.”

The Xue family’s procession moved forward without stopping for Li Guanyi.

Xue Daoyong tacitly permitted Li Guanyi’s action. The youth helped the old man to the shade of a tree. The elder had brought water, drank a sip, ate some dried rations, and regained his strength. Li Guanyi asked, “Old sir, where are you from? You must take care of your health.”

The old man caught his breath and replied, “Thank you both for your concern. I am a villager from the towns near Jiangzhou. Right now, I’m seizing the chance to head southwest.”

Li Guanyi was surprised. “Head southwest now?”

The old man smiled bitterly. “Nothing else—surely you don’t know? The grand sacrifice is too… too…”

Seeing the silk on Li Guanyi’s robes, he changed his tone and hurriedly added, “It’s my own fault, Young Master. Your mercy is a great debt I can never repay!” He bowed repeatedly, then, without resting further, hurried off with the two children.

Li Guanyi opened his mouth to speak, but the copper-skinned youth spoke in a low voice:

“You wear such clothes—you’re a high official. He won’t speak to you.”

Li Guanyi understood. He gripped the hilt of his blade.

The youth patted the curved knife at his waist. “I come from the west. I heard the Emperor of the Central Kingdom cares for his people like a sage. I was curious, so I rode a camel across the desert, then an ass to get here—but what I see doesn’t match.”

Li Guanyi asked, “Do you know why?”

The youth replied, “I know little. I heard that envoys and merchants from all nations don’t pay. Relay stations line their routes. I once heard an old man say every county within five hundred li must supply food.”

“Then five thousand households of artisans from surrounding counties are summoned to the capital to perform music.”

“All these costs are borne by the common people—for the grand sacrifice.”

Li Guanyi frowned, gazing at Jiangzhou City—the grand sacrifice of Chen Guo, a matter of the realm.

Yet it still weighed upon the people. The Emperor of Chen Guo…

Li Guanyi said nothing. He remounted and rejoined the Xue family’s carriage, entering Jiangzhou City with the old man. No one dared stop the Xue family’s procession. Behind them, the young man from the western lands rode his donkey.

He was a westerner—and not even a head tax was levied on him.

Li Guanyi gazed at the towering city ahead.

Majestic, solemn, immense.

This was Jiangzhou City, the capital of Chen Guo—the place his parents had once walked.

More than ten years ago, had the Duke of Taiping ridden his qilin through these gates, while all around cheered? Li Guanyi thought, as he entered Jiangzhou City. He paused slightly, sensing a faint, familiar yet alien aura.

At the very moment Li Guanyi stepped into Jiangzhou,

the entire city fell utterly silent—a deathly hush, as if every beast and insect dared not stir, even the wind ceased. Li Guanyi felt that aura notice him.

The aura surged violently—

and then—a roar, part tiger, part dragon, exploded!

Qilin!