Aboard the Whale Boat, the reek of blood hung thick, impossible to dissolve.
That enormous jiao-dragon head went rolling across the deck.
As that supremely arrogant offspring of the Dragon Lord was parted from his head, the once-clamorous opera stage fell instantly into deathly silence.
Those attendants of the Court of State Ceremonial who, just a moment ago, had been singing and cheering along, were now every one of them struck dumb as cicadas in the cold, not daring even to draw a heavy breath.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance cheered: Slaying an enemy across realms! Heavenly Emperor Gu is mighty!]
[Hundred Bones Resonance favorability +5]
[Current favorability: 195 / ∞ (Through Life and Death, Never Forsaking)]
After the cheering, it suddenly seemed to remember something:
[Heavenly Emperor Gu, don't forget to strip the materials off that demon's body!]
Gu Chengming let out a sigh, crooked his joined fingers, and that jiao-corpse which had tumbled into the seawater was hauled up once more, crashing down upon the deck with a thunderous boom.
Then, gripping the blood-dripping Wave-Listening Sword, he strode at an unhurried pace toward a corner of the Whale Boat.
Cowering there was that official of the Court of State Ceremonial who, only just now, had been fawning and currying favor, presenting his merits to Ao Qing.
Seeing Gu Chengming approach, the official trembled all over, forcing onto his face a smile uglier than weeping, and cupped his hands with a quaver:
"My—my lord, why must you do this? We're all acting by the rules of the Great Qian..."
Gu Chengming's steps paused slightly; his voice was cold and detached: "The rules of the Great Qian—are they to help demons and devils devour their own common folk?"
Seeming to sense the undisguised killing intent in Gu Chengming's words, the official was scared out of his wits, and hurriedly pleaded:
"My lord, hear my explanation! This truly is not this lowly official's fault! Those who travel and trade through the East Sea, the fleets of those great aristocratic clans—they all do it this way!"
"For the sake of the spirit-pearl trade, so long as the East Sea can be kept placated..."
He swallowed a mouthful of spit, trying to use "reason" to persuade this madman:
"They're nothing but a few commoners. My lord, your prospects are boundless—why offend a Dragon Lord over such a trifling matter—"
"Shk——"
The next instant, the official's voice cut off abruptly. He went wide-eyed, gazing somewhat blankly at the Gu Chengming before him, as though unable to comprehend why the sword in the other man's hand had suddenly appeared at his own throat.
Then, he felt his vision begin to spin, and amid that whirl of heaven and earth, he saw a familiar headless body clad in azure official robes, crumpling limply to the ground.
Gu Chengming sheathed his sword and flicked off the blood, in no mood to reason with this sort of person.
Since your rule is that lives are as worthless as weeds, then I'll go by my rule.
——Those who kill without cause shall pay with their lives.
[Within the sea of consciousness, the «Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method» looked upon that rolling human head, and not only felt no cruelty in it—on the contrary, it let out a long, drawn-out breath of relief.]
[It declared with a solemn face: An official who is without benevolence and without righteousness, who regards the people as weeds, who flatters those above and bullies those below—this is a vermin of the state, a pest of ritual.]
[To slay him is not only no violation of ritual—it is, rather, a cleansing back to the source, a thing that gladdens the heart of all! This is the very meaning of "punishment as the aid of moral instruction"!]
[Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method favorability +5]
[Current favorability: 78 / Fond]
Having dealt with this greatest accomplice, Gu Chengming swept his gaze all around.
Those opera performers and crewmen who had originally been hiding in the corners were now every one of them kneeling on the ground, burying their heads between their legs, trembling all over, terrified that this god of slaughter, his eyes gone red with killing, might cut them down along with the rest.
Gu Chengming paid these people no mind, and turned to walk back to that enormous jiao-dragon corpse.
Ao Qing was dead, but this matter was not yet finished.
Gu Chengming understood very well that, having slain the son of the Fubai Dragon Lord, the jiao clan would absolutely never let the matter rest.
By the most cathartic course of action, he ought to carry this dragon's head to Reef Stone Village and set it before the spirit-tablets of those victims, so as to console the departed souls—but to do so would be far too irrational.
Reef Stone Village was merely a mortal hamlet. If the East Sea jiao clan learned that this jiao-dragon had been slain near Reef Stone Village—and that its corpse had even been put on display in the village—then that pack of jiao would surely pour their fury down upon those innocent villagers.
So he had to divert their attention.
He drew a deep breath and, with a single hand, gripped that enormous jiao-tail fully ten-some zhang long. With a low shout, the physical strength of a second-realm cultivator—enhanced by the «Hundred Bones Resonance»—erupted, and he actually dragged that colossal jiao-corpse weighing ten thousand catties sheer by force, smashing straight through the wall of the ship-tower and leaping down from the Whale Boat.
"Boom!"
A huge spray of foam was kicked up from the sea's surface.
Gu Chengming trod upon the billows, his spiritual power circulating to its utmost, dragging that dead jiao-dragon like a speedboat cleaving the waves, racing off in the direction of the deep sea—away from Reef Stone Village, away from the shipping lane.
About half an hour later.
Gu Chengming at last found a desolate, uninhabited solitary island—an island piled up from black reef-stone, where not a blade of grass grew, with only jagged, grotesque rocks and the furious, crashing waves that battered ceaselessly against its shores.
This place was remote enough, and conspicuous enough.
"Thud!"
With a casual swing of his hand, Gu Chengming hurled that massive jiao-corpse heavily down onto a flat slab of reef on the island.
The jiao-corpse struck the ground, shaking the whole little island so that it swayed.
[The «Hundred Bones Resonance» had long since been unable to wait: Heavenly Emperor Gu! Quick, quick, quick! The inner core!]
Gu Chengming shook his head helplessly. Old Hundred-Bones really wouldn't let a single scrap of benefit slip by.
But what it said wasn't wrong either. This jiao-dragon was a treasure from head to tail; since it had been killed, there was no reason to waste it.
He stepped forward and, drawing on the knowledge he had learned from the «Records of Mountains and Seas Anomalies» at the Imperial Academy, very quickly pinpointed a spot three inches below the jiao-dragon's belly, where a single scale differed from the others, faintly giving off a weak, ghostly glow.
The Wave-Listening Sword left its sheath, and gave a light slash.
The hard dragon-hide was sliced open, and a pearl the size of a fist—a deep azure throughout, exuding a rich water-spiritual aura—came rolling out.
"So this is a jiao-dragon's inner core..."
Gu Chengming stowed the inner core into his storage pouch, and then, following the Hundred Bones Resonance's instructions, hacked this ordinarily lofty, high-and-mighty offspring of a Dragon Lord into eight pieces, exceedingly brutally, just like butchering a pig or slaughtering a sheep.
The dragon-scales were stripped off in scattered disarray, the dragon-sinews drawn out; the scene was utterly ghastly, carrying humiliation to its very extreme.
Having done all this, Gu Chengming looked at that bare stone cliff-face, the indignation in his heart still unsettled.
He raised his sword and stepped forward, pouring his spiritual power into the blade's edge, and upon that most conspicuous cliff that faced the sea, with strokes like a coiling dragon and writhing serpent, he carved several great characters several inches deep—
[The one who slew this jiao-demon: Gu Chengming!]
Having written it, Gu Chengming sheathed his sword and lingered no further, turning and treading off across the waves.
The night was ink-black, and the sea wind still carried a few traces of not-yet-dispersed blood-reek—but that pall of gloom which had pressed down over Reef Stone Village seemed, with that slaughter that had taken place upon the sea, to have quietly faded away.
Within the thatched hut where Ah Ji lay, the candle-flame burned a dim yellow.
That strand of pure, refined spiritual power guarding his heart-vessel had at last taken effect; the boy's originally ashen complexion had recovered a little vitality, and his breathing had gradually become steady and long-drawn.
Though those eyes could never come back, at least this one life had, just barely, been preserved.
Gu Chengming stood at the bedside and, for one last time, checked the boy's pulse. Having confirmed that all was well, he then turned around.
That aged headman was kneeling at the doorway, his whole body still shaking uncontrollably as though sifting through a sieve.
"Take this."
Gu Chengming casually tossed out a heavy storage pouch, inside which were packed no small number of wound-healing pills and spirit stones.
"The pills inside—give him one every three days. That will be enough to help him remold his meridians and nurse his body back to health."
"The remaining spirit stones, leave to him so he can live out the rest of his days. If anyone asks, just say they were left behind by an old acquaintance."
The headman cradled that storage pouch, his two hands trembling, and upon that rough muddy ground he banged his head until it sounded with dull thuds, heedless even of the bruise spreading across his forehead, able only to repeat a few words over and over:
"Thank you, thank you, my lord, thank you, benefactor..."
Gu Chengming said nothing more, only cast one last glance at the boy on the bed—who, even while unconscious, still wore a furrowed brow—and turned to step out into the night.
Within the county yamen, the lamps blazed bright.
County Magistrate Li had not slept—or rather, he simply dared not sleep.
He paced back and forth in the main hall, those official boots of his all but wearing a hole through the floor-tiles.
Every little while, he would raise his head to gaze out at the pitch-black night sky beyond the door, his eyes full of anxiety.
In his view, that young man was full of fervent zeal, but in the end he was simply too young, too impetuous. To go alone, single sword in hand, to confront that jiao-demon with its sky-reaching backing—it was no different from striking a stone with an egg.
"Haa... what a calamity."
County Magistrate Li let out a heavy sigh. He had just been about to sit down and take a sip of cold tea when a figure, soundless and without the slightest trace, appeared at the doorway of the main hall.
County Magistrate Li's hand jerked, and his teacup shattered to pieces with a "crack."
He shot to his feet, and when he made out clearly that blood-stained, brocade-clad figure, his eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets.
"Lord—Lord Gu?!"
He stumbled forward to greet him, looking Gu Chengming up and down, his voice quavering: "You've come back? Then... then that Lord Ao..."
"Dead."
Gu Chengming casually pulled over a chair and sat down: "I cut off his head. The body I chopped to bits and threw onto a sea-island to feed the birds."
County Magistrate Li was as though struck by lightning, his whole body frozen rigid where he stood, his mouth gaping open.
He had imagined countless possibilities—Gu Chengming fleeing back gravely wounded, Gu Chengming being humiliated and then driven off, even Gu Chengming with his body perished and his Dao extinguished.
The one thing he had never imagined was that this vicious jiao, which had coiled upon the shores of the East Sea and made countless officials bow and scrape, had actually truly... been slaughtered?
"Dead... dead?"
County Magistrate Li murmured to himself, and within those turbid old eyes, the shock gradually receded, replaced by an exceedingly complicated emotion.
"Thud."
This old magistrate, who for the sake of the whole county's common folk had "endured humiliation and borne the heavy burden," who had spent his entire life bending his back and kowtowing—now, facing this Gu Chengming who was decades his junior, felt his knees go weak, and knelt heavily down.
This time, it was not to beg for mercy, nor to dissuade; he merely, with his body trembling and old tears streaming down his face, bowed deeply toward Gu Chengming.
"My lord..."
"Rise."
Gu Chengming brushed his sleeve, and looking at this weeping magistrate-father of the people, he instructed:
"Listen well. That jiao-demon was slain by me, and that official of the Court of State Ceremonial was killed by me."
"It has nothing to do with this Reef Stone Village, nothing to do with your county yamen, and still less to do with the common folk of this coast. You all tried your utmost to stop me, but my murderous nature flared up, and I would not heed your dissuasion. Understood?"
County Magistrate Li's body jolted. Having scraped and clawed his way through this world for an entire lifetime, how could he fail to understand the meaning behind these words?
"My lord, you—"
County Magistrate Li's lips quivered, wishing to say something, yet he found his throat blocked as though stuffed with cotton, unable to utter a single word.
A thousand words and ten thousand phrases, in the end, dissolved into a single choked sob: "This lowly official... understands."
Gu Chengming nodded, and without lingering any further, rose to his feet and strode out the door.
The next morning at dawn.
In Reef Stone Village, that crazed old licentiate—who, by no telling what mad affliction had seized him, ordinarily would only curl up trembling in a haystack and mutter "it's laughing"—was today like a man transformed.
From who-knows-where he had found a block of rotten wood, and stolen a blunt-edged carving knife, and sat upon the stone at the village entrance, grinning foolishly while he laboriously carved away.
When villagers passed by and asked what he was carving, the old licentiate would not answer.
His craftsmanship was truly atrocious; amid the flying wood-shavings, the thing he carved out in the end was crooked and lopsided.
It resembled neither god nor Buddha, nor any mortal.
Some said it looked like a sword-bearing knight-errant; others said it looked like a faceless clay bodhisattva.
Only the old licentiate himself knew what it was he had carved.
He set that ugly wooden figure with the utmost care in the very center of his shabby thatched hut, and each day offered before it the rations he had scrimped and saved—and even when his belly growled with hunger, he would still reverently kowtow three times.
Later, years afterward, when this place once again met with disaster at sea, and a new legend spread abroad, people suddenly realized that the thing held in that wooden figure's hand seemed to be a sword.
But of course, that is a tale for another time.
Though the turmoil of the East Sea had not yet been quelled, at least this homeward road was a rare stretch of tranquility.
Because just after slaying the jiao-dragon, there had truly been no spare moment; now that he had the leisure, he could at last settle down and savor the CG in detail.
As his divine sense reached in, a scroll-painting shimmering with flowing radiance slowly unfurled within his sea of consciousness.
[CG / Sword-Seal, Clear Heart]
Within the image, there was a purple-haired woman clad in a pale-violet flowing-immortal dress; and in the void behind her hovered a half-transparent broken-sword phantom, condensed entirely from the power of spirit-soul. The woman's gaze was no longer the teasing, show-watching look so familiar to Gu Chengming, but rather, with an exceedingly faint smile held at the corner of her lips, she gazed out through the scroll, meeting eyes with the one beyond the painting.
At the same time, the skill description surfaced.
[Sword-Seal, Clear Heart: May be triggered when the host suffers any form of mental control or negative mental state; with a sword of the heart it severs deluded thoughts, clearing away all spirit-soul-level negative states of the host as well as of his cultivation methods. Cooldown: one day.]
"..."
Looking at this line of description, Gu Chengming couldn't help but smack his lips. What an absurdly broken skill.
But on second thought, the bond effects of those several cultivation methods of his all seemed to be pretty absurd.
However, what surprised Gu Chengming even more was not the CG effect of the Qingxin Formula, but rather...
[The Qingxin Formula gazed at you with a beaming smile, as if it could never tire of looking.]
What's the meaning of this, little Qing...
Gu Chengming thought to himself.
By rights, this sort of status window and dialogue should only appear when he had done some specific thing to raise favorability, or when a cultivation method wished to express some particular emotion.
He then recalled how the Qingxin Formula had earlier tried using the system prompt "favorability increased" to remind him of things, and thought to himself that this status window had truly been played to pieces by this fun-loving rascal.
But seeing the Qingxin Formula actively pop up a window—and with the expression on that pop-up plainly looking expectant of something—he could not very well ignore it either.
"What is it?"
The text in the dialogue box gave a little flicker.
[The Qingxin Formula propped up its arm to cradle its cheek: It's nothing, really. I just wanted to look at you.]
Gu Chengming said with amusement: "Can't you look at me on ordinary days too?"
[The Qingxin Formula, however, would not let it drop. It stretched out a finger and lightly traced circles along the edge of the dialogue box: That's different.]
[Before, it was a spectator sitting beneath the stage, melon seeds cupped in hand, watching you bustle about up on the stage. Back then, though it was watching you too, it always felt as if there were a layer of gauze between them.]
[But now—now it's standing on the stage as well.]
[Since it's a character within the play, then naturally it has to take a good look at what you look like.]
[Mm... let me look closely. Brow and eyes well-formed, nose-bridge high and straight; you're very handsome when you're decisive in slaughter, and this helpless look you've got right now... is rather endearing too.]
Gu Chengming was caught somewhat off guard by this barrage of straight-to-the-point flattery. He had just been about to reply when new text came popping out again.
[The Qingxin Formula sighed: I always used to think the reason I liked watching you stir up trouble was because it would be entertaining.]
[But now I see—I like watching you simply because I want to watch you.]
[Whether you're swinging your sword to banish demons, or sitting here in a daze...]
[I like watching it all.]
Good grief, what a way with the straight pitches.
Gu Chengming suddenly found himself, for a moment, somewhat caught off guard.
This much a man might endure—but the soul of a master flirt could not endure it!*
He had just been about to fling back a couple of flirtatious lines when he saw the Qingxin Formula go on to say:
[All right, enough of all that. What did you think of me in that picture just now?]
Hearing the other bring up the CG, Gu Chengming was instantly led off-topic, and reflexively began to consider it: "The clothes match the picture's style very well, the newly changed hairstyle looks lovely too, and the content has its own clever little touches."
[The Qingxin Formula instantly narrowed its eyes in delight.]
[Thoroughly satisfied, it hummed a nameless little tune: I'll grant you've got an eye for it. All right then, I won't bother you anymore—you go rest a while. When we reach the Capital, I'll wake you.]
[Good night, my great hero.]
Gu Chengming looked at the Qingxin Formula, which had thrown out a full barrage of straight pitches and then bolted, and for a moment his mood was rather peculiar.
But very soon, another line of familiar text came popping out.
[The «Huiyuan Sword Formula» had watched everything that just happened, taking it all in.]
[It watched that «Qingxin Formula»—which ordinarily would only crack melon seeds and watch the fun—actually seizing this opportunity to flirt with someone.]
[It was greatly shaken, and a sense of crisis instantly welled up in its heart.]
It lowered its head and took a look at itself.
Plain sword-garb, the same unchanging black hair for ten thousand years; apart from being able to hug a sword and act coquettish, it really did seem to have no flirting skills like the Qingxin Formula's?
An unprecedented sense of crisis came rushing in.
[The «Huiyuan Sword Formula» clutched the great sword in its arms tight—this is bad, this is really bad.]
[Before, it always felt itself to be the original aspiration that had accompanied Gu Chengming all the way from his Qi-Refining days.]
[The Hundred Bones Resonance, the Zhouli method, even that newly arrived bashful-and-coy girl—it had held none of them in its eyes.]
[Because none of them understood Gu Chengming's heart!]
[But the «Qingxin Formula» was different... this fellow not only dwelt within the sea of consciousness all along, knowing Gu Chengming's likes and dislikes like the back of its hand, but had now actually awakened this straight-pitch attribute as well!]
[How is this any «Qingxin Formula»—this is clearly the «Philandering Formula»!]
The Huiyuan Sword Formula grew frantic. It spun round and round in place several times, and the more it thought, the more it felt that if it didn't do something, its position as "the principal wife" was in dire peril.
It tried to imitate the Qingxin Formula in striking that maidenly, flirtatious pose—
—but after straining at it for ages, all it felt was unbearably awkward.
It tried to come up with a line too.
—but its head was full of nothing but "so amazing," "like you the most," "hug hug," and it simply could not piece together that sort of high-class phrasing like "good night, my great hero."
[The «Huiyuan Sword Formula» felt a profound sense of defeat.]
[It watched the «Qingxin Formula» over there, already gone off thoroughly content to get its beauty sleep, gritted its teeth, and made a heavy entry in its little notebook.]
[A formidable rival! This is a lifelong nemesis!]
[The «Huiyuan Sword Formula» secretly swore that once it returned to the Capital, it would absolutely cultivate even harder, would absolutely unlock more beautiful CGs, would absolutely snatch Gu Chengming's gaze back from that purple-haired woman!]
[It puffed out its cheeks in a huff, and in the end still couldn't help but, secretly and in an exceedingly tiny voice, mutter a single line in the corner of the sea of consciousness:]
[...You're my great hero too.]
[Though the voice was so small that even it itself could nearly not hear it.]
The wind of the Capital always seemed somewhat more clamorous than elsewhere—but more forgetful, too.
That deed of slaying the jiao upon the shores of the East Sea was, after all, separated by a thousand mountains and ten thousand waters; the news had not yet spread among the streets and markets of the Great Qian.
Even within the Night-Watch Bureau itself, little of it was known.
Within the Hidden Dragon Court, Vice-Commander Liu was buried in a heap of case files concerning minor demons stirring up trouble around the Capital's outskirts.
Seeing Gu Chengming enter, he merely lifted his eyelids, and on that square, upright face appeared a trace of a satisfied smile that said "with you on the job, I'm at ease."
"You're back?"
Vice-Commander Liu set down the cinnabar brush in his hand, lifted his teacup, and took a sip:
"This assignment was hard work. The officials over at the East Sea are the most troublesome sort to deal with—I expect they had you go through the motions and soothe the people's hearts a bit, hm?"
In his view, this was no more than a routine bottom-wiping task.
At most, Gu Chengming, young and hot-blooded, had wrangled a bit with the local officials, and in the end driven off those troublemaking water bandits, and that was that.
Gu Chengming's expression was as composed as ever; he offered no further explanation, only handing over that one sheet of mission-completion receipt:
"I did not fail the charge. The matter has been resolved."
"Resolved is good."
Vice-Commander Liu gave a great sweep of his brush, stamping a red seal upon the case file:
"All right then, go to the Hall of Meritorious Deeds to collect your reward. This time it counts as a Grade-A evaluation for you—after all, traveling such a long way is no easy thing. These few days there are no major cases in the Bureau, so go back and rest a while, and wash off that travel-worn dust."
Gu Chengming cupped his hands and took his leave.
Watching his departing figure, Vice-Commander Liu shook his head and sighed with feeling:
"Young people are just fleet of foot—gone and back again in only these few days. It seems that East Sea assignment wasn't as thorny as the rumors made it out to be."
How was he to know that what was written on that receipt was not any "driving off of water bandits" at all.
But rather—the slaying of a jiao.
When Gu Chengming returned to the small courtyard in Jishan Ward, it was just past midday.
The courtyard gate stood ajar. That orange cat was sprawled on the threshold sunning itself, and seeing Gu Chengming return, it lazily rolled over to show its soft belly—which counted as a greeting.
In the courtyard there drifted a faint aroma of pastries.
Yu Wenqiu was wearing a loose, goose-yellow set of casual home clothes today, nestled in that swing-rack she loved best, holding a plate of exquisite osmanthus cakes in her hands, with a pot of steaming spirit-tea set beside her.
Hearing footsteps, she turned her head, and seeing Gu Chengming standing safe and sound at the doorway, she did not show much surprise—on the contrary, it was as if she had seen the boy next door coming home from buying groceries.
"Oh? Little Gu's back?"
She waved at him with a smiling squint, her fingertips still dusted with a few crumbs of pastry:
"Your timing's just perfect—fresh out of the oven, these osmanthus cakes, still warm. Come, have a taste."
Gu Chengming closed the courtyard gate, shed his travel-worn weariness, and walked over to sit down by the stone table.
"The Elder's craftsmanship grows more and more practiced."
He took the piece of pastry Yu Wenqiu handed over and bit into it; soft, glutinous, fragrant and sweet—it really was quite good.
"That goes without saying. To live in this world is a matter of two words: eat and drink."
Yu Wenqiu stuffed another piece into her mouth and asked indistinctly: "How were the sights of the East Sea?"
She blinked her eyes, her face full of curiosity: "That so-called water-bandit disturbance—how was it dealt with in the end? Did that pack of officials muddy the waters again and vex you to no end?"
Gu Chengming swallowed the pastry in his mouth and poured himself a cup of tea: "The scenery was decent enough, just a bit heavy on the fishy reek."
"As for those water bandits... they were actually a demon beast stirring up trouble."
Gu Chengming paused, then said lightly: "I found it an eyesore, so I slaughtered it."
"Slaughtered it?" Yu Wenqiu's movements paused, then she gave an unconcerned little laugh: "Slaughtered is fine. That sort of small demon that bullies mortals—killing it is just killing it. At most it was a second-realm mixed-blood jiao beast, hm? It's only that pack of officials making a fuss over nothing."
"It wasn't a mixed-blood jiao beast." Gu Chengming added a line while eating his pastry: "It was an early-third-realm jiao-dragon."
"Oh, early third realm, that really is a bit tric—"
Yu Wenqiu reflexively responded, and then her whole body froze rigid as though struck by an immobilization spell.
"Plop."
That piece of osmanthus cake she had just picked up, not yet brought to her mouth, dropped straight down.
Not biased an inch to either side, it landed squarely on the head of that orange cat passing by to beg for pets, breaking into several pieces.
The orange cat, struck dumb, let out a "meow," then happily lowered its head and began to eat.
But Yu Wenqiu had no attention to spare for the cat now. She slowly turned her neck, those lovely eyes of hers staring round and wide, fixed hard upon Gu Chengming, her voice gone off-pitch: "You said... you slaughtered a what?"
"A third-realm jiao-dragon." Gu Chengming repeated, then thought for a moment and added: "It should have been a direct-line scion of the East Sea Whale-Shark Family, I suppose?"
Yu Wenqiu's mouth gaped open. She looked at Gu Chengming, then looked at the pastry on the ground being eaten by the cat, as if confirming whether she had not yet woken from sleep.
Third realm? Jiao-dragon? Direct line of a great clan?
"You... you, you, you..."
Yu Wenqiu pointed at Gu Chengming, her finger trembling: "You're only second realm! You slaughtered a third-realm jiao-dragon?!"
Gu Chengming nodded: "Mm, solo kill. It took a bit of effort, but it was all right."
"A bit... of effort..."
Yu Wenqiu felt only a wave of dizziness.
She recalled that back in the day she too had been a genius with a name on the Hidden Dragon Ranking, yet at the second realm, upon seeing a third-realm demon beast she'd had no choice but to flee for her life. And this kid—he goes out on one trip and slaughters somebody's scion?
"It's over, it's over..."
Yu Wenqiu slapped a hand against her own forehead and wailed:
"Now the East Sea side is going to go mad, isn't it? Can our little courtyard still know any peace? My osmanthus cakes, my storybooks, my good days..."
Though she wailed with her mouth, the very next instant she suddenly sprang down from the swing, darted over to Gu Chengming's side in a few steps, and grabbed his arm, feeling all over it up and down:
"You're not missing an arm or a leg, are you? Your Dao-foundation's not injured? Quick, let this Elder have a look!"
Gu Chengming let her examine him as she pleased, warmth stirring in his heart, and said with a smile: "Rest assured, Elder, I'm perfectly intact."
Having confirmed that Gu Chengming really was unharmed, Yu Wenqiu finally let out a long breath of relief, plopped back down into her chair, and picked up another piece of pastry to calm her nerves.
"Fine then, killed is killed."
She took a fierce bite of the pastry, yet in her eyes there shone a fierce, cub-protecting resolve:
"In any case, you're a person of the Wenjian Sect, and an official of the Night-Watch Bureau. If the sky falls, there's that tall fellow Zhou Qingmu to hold it up, and failing that, there's still our sect."
"And failing even that, I can still take you and run. A mere fifth realm—if I can't beat it, can't I still outrun it?"
"So tell me—which Dragon Lord's offspring was it?"
Gu Chengming did not answer the name directly, but instead countered with a question: "Elder, you've been in the sect for many years—have you ever heard of a forebear of the Wenjian Sect, the Reef Stone Daoist?"
"The Reef Stone Daoist?"
Yu Wenqiu's movements paused slightly. She swallowed the pastry in her mouth, and a flicker of reminiscence crossed her eyes:
"Of course I know of him. Back when I'd just entered the sect as an outer-gate disciple, the old man was still alive—he held an idle Elder's post at the Hall of Punishment and Law. In those days he would often sit at the cliff's edge gazing out at the sea; he was an old fellow of exceedingly good temper, and even gave me candy."
Saying this, she sighed, her tone carrying a few notes of regret:
"It's only a pity that later, I heard, something went awry in his cultivation; his assault on the fifth realm failed, and his body perished and his Dao was extinguished."
"Does the Elder know why he failed?" Gu Chengming pressed.
Yu Wenqiu shook her head, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the rim of her teacup:
"The specifics of the inside story, the sect keeps deeply hushed. I only remember that, in the year of his fall, Sect Leader Shen stood before the sword-tomb and spoke a line that has left a deep impression on me to this very day."
She mimicked the Sect Leader's solemn tone and slowly recited:
"The Sect Leader said: The affairs of the world are impermanent. For a sword cultivator who cultivates the sword, the first thing is still to sweep the heart clean. If one blindly suppresses one's true heart, enduring until the very end, then the sword in one's hand cuts down not the enemy, but one's own inner demon."
Saying this, Yu Wenqiu's brow knit slightly, as if she had recalled some peculiar point:
"Come to think of it, it was strange. When the Reef Stone Daoist's body perished and his Dao was extinguished, by rights it was a sorrowful event for the sect, and everyone ought to have grieved. Yet at the funeral that day, I saw that the expressions of the Sect Leader and several of the Grand Elders were all rather subtle—less like mourning, and more like the bestowing of a kind of blessing, as though upon a release."
Hearing this, Gu Chengming's heart stirred.
Earlier, while leafing through the miscellaneous records of the East Sea at the Imperial Academy, he had felt something amiss. Though that Fubai Dragon Lord was styled a Dragon Lord, he was, after all, only at the fifth realm; and jiao-dragons being lascivious by nature, with offspring beyond counting, the death of a single son would never be enough to make him muster the strength of his entire clan to fight to the death against a colossus like the Wenjian Sect.
What's more, the slaughter of the Reef Stone Daoist's entire family back then was a blood-deep, sea-deep hatred, holding the very greatest of moral right.
The force that had sustained him through his bitter cultivation all the way to the peak of the fourth realm should, by rights, have been precisely this obsession with vengeance.
Why, at the final juncture, had his sword instead come to a stop? Why had he not killed his way to the East Sea, but instead died in melancholy within the sect?
If it was the work of an inner demon, then it all made sense.
He had had too many misgivings, thought too much; for the sake of the so-called greater situation, for the sake of not bringing trouble to the sect, he had forcibly pressed down that must-kill sword-stroke. That stifled breath, pent up in his heart for a hundred years, had in the end become the tribulation that strangled his path of the Dao.
Gu Chengming told all this to Yu Wenqiu, and she, listening to his analysis, was stunned for a long while before finally grasping the twists and turns within it. She abruptly looked toward Gu Chengming:
"So you suddenly bring up the Reef Stone Daoist? Could it be that..."
Gu Chengming nodded: "That jiao-dragon I slew is named Ao Qing, an offspring of the Fubai Dragon Lord—and he is precisely the very demon that, back in the day, murdered the Reef Stone Daoist's entire family."
The little courtyard fell into a long stretch of silence.
There was only the rustling of the wind through the osmanthus leaves.
After a long while, Yu Wenqiu let out a long breath, her expression complicated to the utmost, and forced out a single line: "The connections between the affairs of this world really are a thousand tangled threads."
She looked at this calm-faced young man before her, and an exceedingly absurd illusion suddenly rose in her heart.
Of the secrets concerning the Reef Stone Daoist, few within the Wenjian Sect ever spoke; even she, an Elder, knew only one or two parts of it.
Yet this Gu Chengming, a disciple who had entered the gate not long ago, seemed to see it all with perfect clarity—and had even, with his own hand, severed that strand of karma that had been tangled for a hundred years.
Though Gu Chengming had entered the gate decades later than she, and was a generation lower in seniority, the secret lore he knew gave her the feeling of a senior elder.
Add to that this kid's combat record of a second-realm cultivator slaying a third-realm being...
"Haa."
Yu Wenqiu couldn't help but sigh, and the osmanthus cake in her hand suddenly no longer smelled fragrant.
Though she had long known that there were differences between people, this difference was, perhaps, just a bit too great.
Into her mind there couldn't help but surface that brilliant, peerlessly talented Senior Sister Luo who had always sheltered her.
Back in those years, Senior Sister Luo had been just like this—no matter the trouble, a single stroke of her sword would smooth it all away.
She thought to herself that geniuses really did each have their own sweeping endowments, while one as mediocre as herself...
Ah, no—say what you will, she could count as having lived out a different sort of mediocrity, unlike those utterly ordinary, rule-abiding mediocrities!
At this thought, the gloom in Yu Wenqiu's heart was swept clean away.
She thrust out her chest, the corners of her mouth once again hanging that carefree, heartless smile, and even with a few notes of inexplicable pride, she contentedly picked up a piece of osmanthus cake and stuffed it into her mouth.
"..."
Across from her, Gu Chengming watched the changing color of his Elder's face.
From the shock at the start, to the brooding that followed, to the dejection of self-doubt, and finally to suddenly and inexplicably turning prideful—even humming a little tune.
Gu Chengming grew somewhat puzzled.
The Great Qian's Capital, the Imperial Astronomical Bureau.
As the central hub that oversaw the fortunes of all under heaven and observed the anomalies of the stars, every part of this place was rather mystical.
The Star-Gazing Tower soared into the clouds; the armillary sphere atop it turned slowly, day and night without rest. Within the Director's office, sandalwood incense curled.
Vice-Director Song Zhixing sat upright behind a great desk of red sandalwood, holding in his hands a scroll of yellowed ancient text, and at his hand was a cup of Biluochun tea that had long since gone cold.
He was about fifty years of age, with three wisps of long beard and a clear, refined countenance. At the long desk across from him sat two young Astronomical Observers responsible for recording the "Earthquake Instrument" and the "Aura-Observation Terrace," listlessly sorting through the recent days' case files.
"Master Song, these past few days the qi-mechanism around the Capital's environs has been unusually placid."
One of the young Observers, a man named Chen Mo, set down his cinnabar brush, rubbed his somewhat aching wrist, and couldn't help but give a yawn:
"Apart from two wild demons startling the earth-qi over at West Mountain a few days back, there's been nothing of consequence. The memorials submitted by the Night-Watch Bureau are mostly trifling little cases too. These days are so dull they could nearly bore the feathers off a bird."
Song Zhixing did not even raise his head, only turned a page of his scroll:
"Dull is good. If we of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau were to grow busy, then all under heaven would likely be on the verge of chaos. Besides, how many days has it even been peaceful? That business with the Drunken Dream Boat a month ago stirred even the Great Qian's dragon-aura; that night the Director went into the palace through the night to attend upon the Emperor, and to this day he's hardly closed his eyes."
Hearing this, Chen Mo shrank his neck and gave a sheepish laugh: "This student was only grumbling idly. The commotion that night really was alarming—I heard it was the remnants of the Longevity Sect?"
"What shouldn't be asked, don't ask; what shouldn't be pried into, pry less."
Song Zhixing reprimanded him mildly: "We need only watch, and only record. As for who did the killing, and how it was done—that is something for the Ministry of Justice and the Night-Watch Bureau to fret over."
Just as he was speaking, another Observer, responsible for keeping watch over the "East Sea Disk," suddenly gave a soft cry of surprise.
"Master Song, come and look at this."
There was a note of uncertainty in that Observer's voice as he pointed at the miniature East Sea map before him, carved from a single whole block of dark jade:
"The qi-mechanism on the shores of the East Sea... seems somewhat disordered."
Song Zhixing set down his scroll. He did not rise, but merely gave a casual wave of his hand, sending a strand of gentle spiritual power into that dark-jade map.
"Hummm——"
The originally placid surface of the map rippled in layer upon layer, and the region representing the area around "Reef Stone Village" suddenly lit up with a piercing blood-red, followed at once by an exceedingly violent surge of water-element spiritual aura. Even separated by who-knew-how-many tens of thousands of li, one could still feel, through this formation's projection, that heart-pounding pressure.
"A third-realm demonic aura, erupting?"
Song Zhixing's brow knit slightly, and he at last rose to his feet, walking at an unhurried pace before the map.
"Looking at the purity of this spiritual power and that uniquely foul, fishy stench... it's of the jiao-dragon kind? And the bloodline is not low—it should be a direct-line scion of the East Sea Whale-Shark Family."
Chen Mo's expression changed as well. He hurriedly flipped open the «Records of the East Sea's Strange Beasts» at his hand and compared it, then exclaimed in alarm:
"Master Song, this fluctuation seems to be that offspring of the Fubai Dragon Lord, Ao Qing. Wasn't he always cultivating in seclusion in the depths of the East Sea? How could he have run ashore and made such an enormous disturbance?"
"Cultivating in seclusion?" Song Zhixing gave a scornful laugh:
"That's what's said for outsiders to hear. This little jiao-dragon is brutal and tyrannical by temperament, and most loves to devour people. Over these years he's done no small number of heaven-defying, conscience-blackening deeds over there—it's only that, with that pack from the Court of State Ceremonial running interference for him out front, it was never allowed to blow up, that's all."
His fingertip lightly tapped upon the map, and that cluster of blood-red light abruptly magnified.
"But this time... he seems to have kicked an iron plate."
"The 'Heaven-Opening, Earth-Watching, Sound-Hearing' Formation."
"Yes!"
The two Observers dared not be negligent, and at once each took up a position, the spell-arts in their hands shifting in rapid succession.
As a string of obscure, abstruse incantations rang out, the great bronze ancient mirror atop the Star-Gazing Tower slowly turned, and a beam of resplendent starlight descended from the heavens, projecting into the void at the center of the great hall.
The light and shadow distorted, gradually condensing into solidity.
In the image was precisely that pleasure-barge, already battered to ruin.
Amid the raging wind and torrential rain, Gu Chengming, clad all in ink-black brocade, stood proudly, four flying swords circling about his body; while across from him, that jiao-dragon, manifesting its half-demon form with every scale bristling, was loosing a deafening roar.
These few of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau had only to watch a few moments before they perceived the crux of it.
Though this Gu Chengming had but second-realm cultivation, and his total reserve of true essence was far inferior to that jiao-dragon's, this hand of his with the Clinging Formula was wielded simply to the point of consummate, miraculous skill.
And the coordination of these four swords was exceedingly exquisite as well. Chief attack, chief defense, chief control, chief suppression—the division of labor was clear, an endless, self-renewing cycle.
This degree of divine-sense control... surely even an ordinary early-third-realm cultivator might not be able to achieve it?
"This kid... is he really only newly stepped into the second realm?"
In the image, Ao Qing fought more and more frantically; the giant waves towered to the sky, and the pleasure-barge crumbled apart.
One saw that upon the [Wave-Listening] sword in Gu Chengming's hand, a strange luster suddenly welled up.
That luster was none of the sword intents he had displayed before. Though separated by the formation's projection, unable to fully perceive the essence of that power, Song Zhixing—being a fifth-realm great cultivator—still keenly captured the "anomaly" of that single instant.
——An external force of karma?
In the image, the sword-light flashed.
Without any suspense, and without any obstruction, that layer of dragon-scale which even a second-tier Dharma Sword could scarcely breach was, before that single sword, torn open as easily as if it were made of paper.
"Squelch."
The jiao's head parted, and fresh blood gushed forth.
"What a ruthless sword-stroke, what decisive slaughter."
Song Zhixing drew a deep breath, the look of appreciation in his eyes growing ever richer: "Though the final blow borrowed an external force, this does not affect the outcome of this battle."
He turned and walked back to the great desk, sitting down once more—only this time, his expression had become a great deal more grave.
"To slay an enemy across realms is, in itself, the most perilous of perils—how much more so when crossing that natural chasm between the second realm and the third. That this lad could, in the early stage, rely on his sword-formation and sword intent to forcibly suppress a maddened jiao-dragon—this in itself proves that his combat power already far surpasses others of his own realm, enough even to rival an ordinary third-realm cultivator."
"As for that final sword..."
Song Zhixing gave a smile, picked up the cinnabar brush, and upon a brand-new case file wrote the three characters of "Gu Chengming":
"In a life-and-death struggle, one looks only at the result. To be able to borrow an external force—that too is a kind of ability."
"Chen Mo."
"This student is here." Chen Mo hurriedly bowed.
"Go, fetch out the case file of the Hidden Dragon Ranking." Song Zhixing's brush-tip hovered above the paper, a single drop of cinnabar-red ink poised to fall yet not falling.
"What place was Gu Chengming originally ranked at?"
"Reporting to Master Song—sixty-fourth." Chen Mo did not even need to check the records; it came straight out of his mouth, "He was just promoted up after the Drunken Dream Boat case last time."
Sixty-fourth...
"A second-realm cultivator slaying a third-realm being—and a frontal slaying, with a single man and a single sword."
Song Zhixing pondered a moment, and his brush-tip at last came down, sweeping across the paper like a coiling dragon as he wrote a number that set Chen Mo's heart pounding with fright.
[Hidden Dragon Ranking, Number Twenty: Gu Chengming]
[Origin: Inner gate of the Wenjian Sect]
[Cultivation: Early second realm]
[Combat record: On his first day entering the Capital, slew the third-realm evil-fiend Nightmare Roving Corpse, and thereafter slew the mid-second-realm evil-fiend Filth-Corpse Demon, and a third-realm evil-fiend Red Powder Skeleton. Half a month later, at the Jubo Commerce Guild, slew two second-realm sword cultivators and withdrew unscathed from beneath the hand of a third-realm tribulation cultivator. On the Lantern Festival night, aided the Night-Watch Bureau in breaking a fourth-realm evil-cultivator's grand formation (though a Director acted in this battle, his earlier merit in breaking the formation and tying down the foe cannot be discounted).]
[In recent days, upon the shores of the East Sea, single-handedly intercepted and slew an early-third-realm jiao-dragon. In this battle, with a second-realm body, he suppressed the jiao-dragon throughout, finally beheading it, dismembering its corpse, and carving an inscription upon a sheer cliff. Though there is the suspicion of borrowed force, the firmness of his sword-heart and the fierceness of his courage are truly the foremost among his peers, a hero of the present age.]
Song Zhixing set down his brush, gazed at that ranking-list, and with hands clasped behind his back walked to the window, looking toward the eastern horizon.
Dawn was near at hand; the long night was about to end.
The next day, the morning mist had not yet dispersed.
The wind of the Capital seemed somewhat more clamorous than on ordinary days. Just as the storyteller in the teahouse had brought down his wakening-block, preparing to seek out some fresh meaning amid those hackneyed clichés, a piece of news from the East Sea came pouring back into the Capital—upon the desks of countless powerful and noble, in the court roiling with hidden currents, in the low murmurs of the streets and wards—and there was but a single line.
——A jiao stirred up chaos, and was cut down with a single sword.
And so...
The wind rose from the duckweed; the sword sang through the splendor of the Capital.
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