Xiao Wuming shoved the blind old man into the courtyard and kicked the back of his leg, forcing him to kneel.
Li Qingqiu stepped around the long table and stopped before the old man. Zhang Yuchun and Li Dongyue came forward as well.
"Speak. Why have you come here?"
Li Qingqiu's tone was calm, his eyes sharp. Seeing that this man was blind yet had managed to climb Qingxiao Mountain, he suspected there might be some misunderstanding.
If someone had sent this old man to assassinate or steal the Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra, it would be far too foolish a move.
The blind man said nothing.
His silence made Yuan Qi and Xiao Wuming visibly impatient, but with Li Qingqiu present, neither dared to speak out of turn.
Li Qingqiu waited a moment. When no answer came, he simply sighed—he wasn't one to waste words. Whether this was a misunderstanding or not, the man had brought it upon himself.
Just as he was about to cast the Soul-Binding Curse, a faint blue light flickered, and Chu Jing emerged from the Tianhong Sword.
"Master," Chu Jing said respectfully, "I recognize this man. I have a good idea who sent him."
Li Qingqiu's fingers paused mid-air. "Oh? Then tell me."
Yuan Qi and Xiao Wuming froze, glancing around in confusion. They couldn't tell who their Sect Master was speaking to.
Zhang Yuchun and Li Dongyue exchanged startled looks.
Li Qingqiu gave no explanation. He simply listened as Chu Jing's voice echoed softly from the sword.
"His name is Mo Li, known in the martial world as the Tyrant Blade. He has some history with Shen Yue. One of Shen Yue's closest friends inherited the Tyrant Sword lineage. Since ancient times, those who bore the titles of Tyrant Blade and Tyrant Sword were destined to clash. The last Tyrant Sword heir died by his hand."
"In his youth, Mo Li wandered the martial world, challenging masters everywhere to restore the glory of the Tyrant Blade. He made countless enemies. His blindness came from a rival's poison, and his wife and child were killed in revenge. The ones who saved him back then were the Qi Clan of Cangzhou—they even avenged his family. After that, he vanished from the public eye, though many believe he continued to serve the Qi Clan under another identity."
As Chu Jing spoke, his tone was tinged with recollection.
"Tyrant Blade Mo Li… Qi Clan?" Li Qingqiu murmured.
At the sound of those words, the blind old man's head snapped up. Though he had no eyes to see, his face betrayed utter shock.
Zhang Yuchun, Li Dongyue, Yuan Qi, and Xiao Wuming all looked at each other—none of them could understand how Li Qingqiu had seen through the old man's identity so easily.
Chu Jing continued, his voice turning grave. "If he's here, it's likely under the Qi Clan's orders. Their roots run deep—deeper than even I could ever learn. During my years in court, even when I held authority at the highest level, I could never see through them completely. Their influence reaches into the imperial court—at least half the current ministers have ties to the Qi Clan. Without them, the Zhao royal family would never have seized the throne. But they prefer to remain in Cangzhou, hidden from fame. Among the world's eight great families, none compare. In truth, I believe the Qi Clan is the true Number One Clan under Heaven."
"I once sent men to infiltrate the Qi Clan. None returned. Before my last agent vanished, he sent one final message. He said the Qi Clan was raising something. That creature required the blood essence of countless rare beasts. I thought, back then, they were pursuing some kind of elixir of immortality, so I didn't investigate further. But now, seeing this man, I suspect they're after the Qilin's blood."
"Few people today still recognize Mo Li's face. Even if he failed, he would never expose the Qi Clan."
Chu Jing sighed. The Qi Clan's schemes were intricate and ruthless. But he also knew—this was Qingxiao Sect, not an ordinary martial faction. Li Qingqiu had countless means to make even the dead reveal their secrets.
Li Qingqiu's eyes flickered. "The Qilin's blood… What could the Qi Clan possibly be nurturing?"
The moment he spoke, Mo Li's body trembled violently.
Then, blood gushed from the corner of his mouth. He bit through his tongue and shattered his own meridians with inner energy.
With a dull thud, he collapsed to the ground.
Li Dongyue hesitated. The Rejuvenation Ghost-Immortal Needles could preserve a dying man's breath.
But her Senior Brother's mastery of the same technique was far superior—if he wanted to save the man, he already would have.
Li Qingqiu didn't move. There was no need. He hadn't forced the man to die. If Mo Li had simply spoken the truth, he might've lived.
What Li Qingqiu despised most—was pretentious stubbornness.
"Watch closely," Li Qingqiu said calmly. "This is the Soul-Binding Curse. Even in death, one cannot escape it."
As his voice fell, his eyes turned a deep, eerie violet.
Yuan Qi and Xiao Wuming stared, their eyes widening.
Zhang Yuchun and Li Dongyue both stepped forward instinctively. When they saw Li Qingqiu's eyes clearly, they froze in shock.
…
The night was tranquil.
In an inn far away in Blackstone County, Ye Nan lay restless on his bed, tossing and turning.
He suddenly sat up, glancing toward the moonlight spilling through the window.
It had been seven days since his master left. Though there was still plenty of time before the promised one-month mark, anxiety gnawed at his chest.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.
Around Blackstone County, there was only one martial sect—the Qingxiao Sect.
'Could Master have gone there?'
His mind churned with worry.
Though he had been Mo Li's disciple for a year, he still knew nothing of the man's true identity or intentions.
A year ago, when mountain bandits nearly killed him, it was Mo Li who saved him. Ye Nan had been awed by his master's power and refused to leave until the old man agreed to take him as a disciple.
Mo Li had warned him he was heading south for important business. Ye Nan had followed without hesitation.
They had traveled the entire land over the past year, witnessing both beauty and bloodshed. The darker the world grew, the more Ye Nan cherished those days with his master.
"Master… you're not trying to take revenge on someone from Qingxiao Sect, are you? Even if you're strong, you can't possibly match Li Qingqiu..."
The thought alone made his stomach twist. He ruffled his hair in frustration, unable to rest.
He didn't know how long he stayed awake before exhaustion finally dragged him into sleep.
When a sharp knock sounded at the door, sunlight was already streaming through the window, bright enough to sting his eyes.
"Who is it?"
"Water delivery," a man's voice answered from outside.
Still half-asleep, Ye Nan grumbled and got up. He trudged over and pulled the door open.
He froze instantly.
Two young men stood there—not inn servants, but strangers in neat blue robes, handsome and composed.
One of them glanced at the other and said coldly, "That's him. No mistake."
One of the young men held a scroll with a painted face on it. The other lifted his hand, pressing the door firmly shut. "We are disciples of Qingxiao Sect," he said flatly. "You'll need to come with us up the mountain."
Qingxiao Sect!
Ye Nan's mind went blank. Panic surged through him, and instinctively he tried to turn and flee. But before he could move, a hand landed on his shoulder, pinning him in place like iron. His body froze.
"You'd better behave," the Qingxiao disciple warned coldly. "We're not necessarily here to trouble you. We just need you to come with us."
With the strength of a third-layer Nurturing Essence Realm cultivator, holding down a powerless teenager required no effort at all.
Terror filled Ye Nan's heart. He had thought his martial arts were already decent—but now he realized how laughably naïve he'd been. He finally understood his master's warning.
Without inner cultivation, one could never become a true expert.
…
In the courtyard of the Heavenly Works Hall, Li Qingqiu stood beside Zhu Yan. Nearby were the Xiao brothers, Mingguang, and Su Xiling, all watching with curiosity as a young female disciple nervously clutched an object in her hands.
Under so many gazes, the girl looked uneasy. Her sect robe sleeves were rolled up high, revealing thin arms smeared with soot and ash. Her face was smudged with charcoal, but her large bright eyes shone with determination.
Her name was Wu Xingyue, a disciple of the Heavenly Works Hall, currently at the second layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm.
She was gripping a small bronze mirror, her palms slick with sweat.
"Show the Sect Master your Mystic Flame Mirror," Zhu Yan said softly, seeing her frozen in place.
Startled, Wu Xingyue quickly turned and poured her vital energy into the mirror.
The bronze surface began to glow, and then—whoosh!—a surge of crimson fire burst forth, spinning as it shot ahead. The flame spread nearly five zhang long, burning so fiercely it almost set the front hall ablaze.
The Xiao brothers stared wide-eyed, stunned.
Su Xiling had already seen it once before, but even now, watching the flame's fierce power, she couldn't help being amazed all over again.
Wu Xingyue quickly cut off the flow of her energy and turned back toward Li Qingqiu. "Sect Master," she said nervously, "this is the limit of my current strength. If someone stronger were to use it, the power would definitely be much greater."
"The Mystic Flame Mirror, hm?" Li Qingqiu nodded in approval. "A good name. How did you come up with the idea to forge it?"
Seeing his faint smile, Wu Xingyue finally relaxed a little. Her face broke into a small grin. "When I was studying the Foundational Array Compendium, I wondered if martial techniques could be engraved into weapons—to save time on practicing individual arts. So I began studying restrictive imprints. Since my family has been blacksmiths for generations, I already knew a little about forging. I decided to try merging both arts. I failed many times at first, but each failure gave me a better sense of what might work…"
Li Qingqiu listened quietly, feeling a rare flicker of emotion.
Her Cultivation Aptitude was mediocre, and her Comprehension only fair. She had no special Fate, and in the vast Qingxiao Sect, that made her completely ordinary. He hadn't paid her much attention before.
And yet she had given him this surprise.
It proved that Fate alone didn't decide everything. Even one without a fated destiny could still create miracles—and achieve great things.
The more he looked at Wu Xingyue, the more satisfied he became. "You did very well," he said. "What you've forged is a magical artifact. I'll tell you the truth—Qingxiao Sect doesn't just train in martial arts. We also cultivate the immortal path. What you engraved on this mirror are spiritual restrictions—a true method of cultivation."
Magical artifact!
Wu Xingyue's eyes went wide, and the others gasped softly.
But the more they thought about it, the more sense it made. Something like this indeed transcended the scope of normal weapons—it was worthy of the name magical artifact.
The sect had long been rumored to practice immortal techniques, but now hearing their Sect Master confirm it directly filled them all with excitement and awe.
"You have forged Qingxiao Sect's first magical artifact," Li Qingqiu continued solemnly. "For this, I will have a monument built in your honor. From today onward, you are officially appointed Elder of the Heavenly Works Hall. I hope you'll continue creating more magical artifacts to strengthen the sect's path in the art of forging."
Wu Xingyue's breath caught.
Elder of the Heavenly Works Hall—a rank even higher than a True Disciple!
She had risen to the heavens in a single step!
"Quickly, thank the Sect Master!" Zhu Yan urged, smiling.
Wu Xingyue snapped back to her senses and hurriedly bowed deeply. "Disciple thanks the Sect Master for his grace!"
Li Qingqiu nodded with satisfaction, praising her further as he explained the importance of magical artifacts to the sect's future. His words carried genuine weight, and by the end, Wu Xingyue was nearly moved to tears.
Glancing at the Dao Lineage Interface, Li Qingqiu noticed her loyalty rise past 90. His smile grew broader.
"From now on," he said, "if you have any problems, come to me directly—just as Mingguang does."
Wu Xingyue instinctively looked over at Mingguang, who gave her an encouraging smile.
Li Qingqiu didn't linger any longer. He left her to enjoy her moment of triumph.
Once he departed with the Xiao brothers, Wu Xingyue let out a joyful cry and suddenly threw her arms around Zhu Yan.
Zhu Yan didn't push her away. She patted the girl's back gently, her face softening with pride.
She had only accepted Wu Xingyue into the hall because of her minor forging skill—never expecting that this little gamble would bring such a gift to Qingxiao Sect.
…
Elsewhere, Li Qingqiu walked down a stone path, the Xiao brothers trailing behind him, still excitedly discussing the magical artifact they'd just seen.
Li Qingqiu had mentioned that one day, every disciple of Qingxiao Sect would possess their own magical artifact. The three brothers were lost in fantasy, unable to stop imagining that future.
But Li Qingqiu's expression had already turned serious again. His mind drifted back to Mo Li and the Qi Clan.
"Nurturing the spirit, huh…" he muttered to himself. "Let's see what exactly you're trying to raise."