"Utterly absurd! Unspeakably corrupt! A crime beyond redemption!"
Inside a roadside inn, Huang Shan, Yu Lin, and several others among the Seven Sons of Qingxiao were eating together when a passionate voice roared from outside the window.
Yu Lin and a female disciple exchanged glances, then stood up and peered down from the second floor.
On the street below, a wooden platform had been hastily built. A scholar stood upon it, gripping an ancient book in one hand. His face was flushed red, veins bulging on his neck. His entire body trembled with fury and righteous indignation.
"The Fourteen Lands of the Nine Provinces have stood for seven thousand years of history. We've had countless wise rulers and countless fools, but never—never—has there been a monarch as vile as today's Emperor! He murdered his brother for the throne, slaughtered his own son in rage, and for the sake of eternal life, he shelters deceitful alchemists who poison the court and destroy the realm. The people live in misery while he seeks immortality!"
His voice thundered through the air, stirring the growing crowd of townsfolk and merchants below.
"Two years ago, the Guzhou Massacre—how many innocent citizens died? How many soldiers vanished without a trace? The so-called 'Demonic Sect'—destroyed again and again, yet always reborn! Doesn't that strike you as strange?"
He jabbed his finger toward the heavens, shouting, "That 'Demonic Sect' is his blade! Zhao Zhi uses it to capture children, refining them into his elixirs! Such cruelty defies the will of heaven—humans and gods alike despise it! If we, the people of the Great Li Dynasty, do not rise up, one day his evil will fall upon every household, and the dynasty itself will crumble!"
The scholar's voice trembled with conviction, infecting everyone who listened. Faces in the crowd turned red with anger, eyes burning.
"This world belongs to the people—it's not Zhao Zhi's alone! If he can murder his own virtuous son and brand him a traitor, what's to stop him from seizing our wives and daughters, or killing our parents, then calling us rebels and criminals?"
Those words ignited the mob completely.
The people burst into rage, shouting curses at the Emperor, their cries echoing through the streets.
At the inn's second-floor window, Yu Lin turned to Huang Shan and said quietly, "Senior Brother, the whole empire's about to explode. Should we keep investigating?"
Huang Shan set down his bowl and chopsticks, his brow furrowed. "No. We'll head back and wait for the Sect Master's orders. We can't risk bringing danger upon Qingxiao Sect."
The others quickly agreed—they had been wanting to return for days.
Back at the table, Yu Lin clicked his tongue and muttered, "That old emperor's lost his mind. Killing his own son—the Crown Prince, no less! The rest of his sons are useless gluttons. Even if he dies, the realm will still suffer under fools."
The group began murmuring heatedly.
"Exactly! The southern tribes have risen again, slaughtering our people, and the Emperor ignores it, obsessed only with alchemy and false immortality. It's a sign of a doomed nation!"
"Let it fall, then. Living under Great Li has never brought peace anyway."
"If the dynasty collapses, the chaos that follows will last a hundred years at least."
"Great Li's founding emperor was a man of unmatched brilliance—he conquered the Nine Provinces and built five hundred years of prosperity. And now his descendant has thrown it all away!"
"If that former Crown Prince hadn't been betrayed and slain, the Great Li might have entered another golden age."
Huang Shan didn't join their talk. His heart was heavy.
If even a small town like this was boiling with resentment, what of the great cities? What chaos awaited the realm next?
…
Outside Qianwu Hall, sunlight gleamed on the marble steps.
Xuan Gong stood at the top with the Prohibition Guards behind him.
Each wore a mask, revealing only cold, emotionless eyes.
They stood with heads bowed, none daring to meet their Emperor's gaze.
At the top of the stairs, Emperor Zhao Zhi reclined lazily on the dragon throne. His white robes hung loose, his hair disheveled. In one hand, he turned a yellow-white pill between his fingers, examining it with obsessive fascination.
"Three hundred sixty-five Prohibition Guards," he said slowly, his voice hoarse and venomous like a serpent's hiss. "Every one of you is a master who could crush any sect beneath heaven. And you, Xuan Gong, claim to be the greatest under heaven. Yet someone escaped you—and days have passed, with no word?"
Xuan Gong immediately dropped to one knee, and the others followed.
"Your Majesty," he said in a deep, resonant voice, "those two were extraordinarily skilled. We could not stop them. It only shows that the Great Li is vast, and true masters still walk among us."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed. "So that's it? You'll simply let it go?"
"The Prohibition Guards will continue the pursuit," Xuan Gong declared firmly. "We will not rest until they're found."
Zhao Zhi's expression softened slightly. "Xuan Qing, you've protected me since childhood. Without you, I wouldn't be Emperor today. You are the one man I truly trust. When I attain immortality, I'll share the divine elixir with you. Among all my officials and generals, only you have my faith. Don't ever fail me."
"I will serve with all my strength," Xuan Gong replied without hesitation.
The Emperor leaned back and murmured, "The so-called Martial Legend's inner core was powerful, yes—but it's not true immortality. I need more martial masters as the foundation for my elixirs. From this day on, unleash the Demonic Sect. Let them sweep across the martial world. Within three years, I must perfect the Elixir of Eternal Life."
"As you command," Xuan Gong said solemnly.
After a pause, Zhao Zhi added, "And what of Qingxiao Sect in Guzhou? A small sect, yes—but they defeated the Demonic Emperor. Their Sect Master's strength must be exceptional. You've been there before. Should we seize them now?"
Xuan Gong replied, "The cultivators of Qingxiao Sect are still too young. Their potential is great, but their current power is limited. I recommend leaving them for last. In three years, their cultivation will ripen. When the time comes, I'll personally ascend the mountain and capture their Sect Master. The results will be far more rewarding."
"Hmm… very well."
Zhao Zhi closed his hand around the pill and shut his eyes.
Xuan Gong bowed low, then turned and led the Prohibition Guards away, their footsteps echoing like thunder through the empty hall.
As Xuan Gong and the Prohibition Guards exited Qianwu Hall, Zhao Zhi suddenly opened his eyes. His pupils were icy cold, carrying a murderous glint.
…
By the second month of the year, the Seven Sons of Qingxiao had returned. After hearing their reports, Li Qingqiu told them to rest for a while and focus on cultivating.
During this period, Zhang Yuchun's network continued gathering intelligence across the realm. The situation everywhere was boiling—resentment toward the Emperor was spreading like wildfire. In many provinces, mobs of citizens had already begun storming government offices.
Countless noble families were wiped out for their ties to the late Crown Prince. Heads rolled, and many of the surviving young masters fled into the martial world. The result was a surge of chaos—murders, duels, and vendettas rising like waves of blood across the rivers and lakes.
By the end of the month, Li Qingqiu finally broke through to the eighth layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm inside the Underground Spiritual Lake.
He was alone in this blessed land. Because of the special nature of his Hundred-Refined Demon Body, his breakthrough required another three days to fully stabilize. When he was done, his vital energy roared through his body like a raging sea, on the verge of overflowing.
The difference between the seventh and eighth layers was only one stage in name, yet in truth, it was as vast as heaven and earth.
He could now faintly sense the existence of Awakening Spirit.
Awakening Spirit represented a new level of soul power—like opening a third eye, a force beyond mere energy and flesh.
Li Qingqiu realized that his earlier attempts to perceive the hidden seals within magical artifacts had already been the preliminary stirrings of this new power.
According to the Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra, the realm above Nurturing Essence was indeed Awakening Spirit. He couldn't help but look forward to it.
The manipulation of vital energy resembled the use of inner qi among martial artists—but Awakening Spirit was completely different. It could kill invisibly and refine artifact control to miraculous levels.
At the eighth layer, his vital energy had increased a hundredfold. Confidence surged through him, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
He took out the bronze mirror he had once obtained through Bai Ning'er. Inside this mirror dwelled a ghostly soul. Before this, his cultivation wasn't strong enough to interact with it, so he had set it aside.
Now that he had reached the eighth layer, he decided to see if he could subdue the spirit within using the Soul-Binding Curse.
With his Mortal God and Ghost Fate and Hundred-Refined Demon Body, Li Qingqiu's control of the Soul-Binding Curse had already reached perfection.
Lin Chuan floated nearby. When Li Qingqiu took out the mirror, he seemed to sense something ominous, turning his gaze sharply toward it and drifting closer.
Li Qingqiu ignored him and began chanting over the mirror.
Within the darkness of the mirror's interior, a woman in white lay motionless. Then, as if sensing danger, her head snapped up. Her pale face twisted hideously, and her blood-red eyes gleamed with hatred.
The evil aura burst from the mirror in a wave, coalescing into her full figure—the White-Clothed Ghost Woman—who lunged toward Li Qingqiu with claws bared and hair flying like ink in the wind.
Lin Chuan started forward, intending to stop her, but Li Qingqiu merely raised his hand. Lin Chuan froze in place, forced to halt.
Just as the White-Clothed Ghost was about to strike, her body stiffened midair. She trembled violently, unable to move another step.
Li Qingqiu's eyes turned violet. He continued chanting, his voice low and rhythmic. Soon, the ghost's eyes closed, her violent aura dissipating.
With his overwhelming vital energy and the power of his dual human-ghost fate, Li Qingqiu effortlessly established a spiritual link with the ghost and began reading her memories.
Her name was Nangong E, once a princess of the Wei Dynasty—the predecessor of the Great Li.
The Wei Dynasty had ruled for three hundred years, a flourishing empire that had governed six provinces. Its legacy was still written deeply into history.
Nangong E died at the age of sixteen. During a time of political turmoil, her father, the emperor, saw the empire crumbling around him. As rebels stormed the palace, he strangled her with his own hands while she was dressing for the day, fearing she would fall into enemy hands.
Her soul, filled with rage and grief, became trapped inside the bronze mirror.
After the fall of the Wei Dynasty, the emperor died, and palace eunuchs plundered her chamber, taking the mirror with them. Over the next hundred years, the artifact passed through countless hands—stolen, sold, and hidden—until it eventually ended up in a mountain bandits' trove, where it was discovered by Li Sifeng and Bai Ning'er.
'Pitiful soul,' Li Qingqiu thought.
Seeing that she had never committed evil in life or death, he decided not to feed her to Lin Chuan.
'Then you'll be my second ghost servant.'
The first ghost servant, Lin Chuan, had already proven invaluable. He could move freely throughout Qingxiao Sect, carrying out secret tasks. Having another ghost servant would only make things more convenient.
Half an hour later, Nangong E awoke. Her hostility had faded, her mind regaining clarity.
When she looked at Li Qingqiu, she instinctively understood he was now her master. A faint tremor passed through her, and she dared not draw near.
"From now on, you'll follow me," Li Qingqiu said gently. "If one day I master the art of transcendence, I'll help you enter the cycle of reincarnation."
Nangong E knelt down timidly, not daring to respond.
Seeing this, Li Qingqiu said no more. He picked up the bronze mirror and walked toward the exit of the Underground Spiritual Lake.
He named the artifact Nangong Mirror, in memory of the ill-fated princess.
The ghostly woman followed closely behind him, her steps silent. Lin Chuan occasionally glanced back at her, curiosity flickering in his spectral eyes.
Though both were ghost servants, he dared not act without Li Qingqiu's command—nor would he dare to devour her. There was something about Nangong E that made him uneasy.
As they walked through the forest, even under the bright sunlight, neither spirit was harmed—a benefit of their bond with Li Qingqiu.
To his surprise, Li Qingqiu noticed that Nangong E could actually touch and move the trees along the path.
That was remarkable. Lin Chuan could only interact with physical objects at night, yet Nangong E could do so in broad daylight.
'Could she actually fight?' he wondered, a spark of excitement flashing through his eyes.