Chapter 32: No Need to Evade
“Meng Xueli and Xiao Tingyun have entered Hanmen City.”
“They went to ‘Hengtong Juyuan,’ were invited upstairs, and are likely meeting with Qian Yuzhi.”
“The content of their conversation is unknown. Qian Yuzhi saw them off, and Xiao Tingyun was holding a white jade box about three feet long. Its contents remain a mystery.”
“…”
This was the first time in three years that Meng Xueli had left Han Shan. Though the journey was neither ostentatious nor particularly secretive, it naturally attracted the attention of those with keen eyes.
While Hanmen City was indeed a safe place, its bustling streets were filled with watchful eyes, and its connections with the Han Shan Sword Sect were deeply rooted.
Meng Xueli and Ji Xiao were adept at sensing the threatening presence of strong individuals, but they remained unaware of the low-level spies hiding among the crowds. These spies, trained rigorously, observed without drawing attention and carefully kept their distance.
Since the pair descended the mountain, countless messages had quietly spread—from Hanmen City to the rear of Han Shan, eventually reaching the depths of a secluded valley.
The valley was known as Jingsi. It was blanketed in white snow and utterly silent.
Even the quietest mountain settings were typically filled with the rustling of forest waves, babbling brooks, and the chirping of insects and birds. But here, there was nothing—no signs of life, no movement. It was as if everything in the valley were frozen in time. It truly lived up to its reputation as the most tranquil place in Han Shan.
The year Ji Xiao attained sainthood as a Sword Sovereign, massive boulders collapsed from the cliffs flanking the valley’s entrance, nearly sealing off its passage to the outside world. What remained was a narrow, elongated path—barely wide enough for one person to pass through at a time.
Walking through this passage, one could look up and see only a thin sliver of sky, fragmented like shards of glass. It was hard not to feel a creeping sense of dread, fearing that the immense rocks overhead might suddenly tumble down, burying them in the depths of the valley forever.
When Ji Xiao’s ascension illuminated the skies above Han Shan, the Supreme Elder took up permanent residence in Jingsi Valley, beginning a prolonged period of reclusive isolation. He never left the valley, occasionally sending his chief disciple Zhou Yi to relay messages or summoning the Sect Leader Zhenren and peak masters for instruction.
Using divine powers, he created the narrow “Skyline Path” to symbolize a constant reminder for the younger generation of the sect: Ji Xiao was like the massive stones suspended overhead—their lives perpetually at risk. They must remain ever vigilant.
Although Sect Leader Zhenren sought unity and stability within Han Shan, the rift between the Supreme Elder’s faction and Ji Xiao was irreconcilable. Unless time could flow backward, undoing past mistakes—unless Hu Si had neither cursed nor left that year—the grudge could never be erased.
Within Jingsi Valley, amidst the snow-covered landscapes, there were no black-and-white structures typical of Han Shan. Every building and pavilion was painted entirely in vermilion. From a distance, they resembled faded red marks against a white canvas.
This was because the valley’s master, having lived to an advanced age, loathed the combination of black and white.
Such a color pairing reminded him of funerals.
The Supreme Elder had many taboos. Those who served him avoided mentioning words like “death,” “demise,” “mourning,” or “short-lived,” fearing they might offend his sensibilities.
The only exception occurred on the day of the Sword Sovereign’s passing. A messenger, panicked and in haste, burst into the valley and blurted out, “Daoist Revered, the skies have changed. The Sword Sovereign has fallen.”
Everyone present was terrified, certain that the messenger would not escape punishment. To their astonishment, a calm and hoarse voice emerged from behind the curtain: “I already know. You may leave.”
The Supreme Elder’s Daoist title was Tai Heng. Over his 560 years of life, he had witnessed countless rises and falls among cultivators and had outlived so many great figures that their numbers were beyond reckoning.
Many times, outliving others means fulfilling oneself.
No one knew how many more years Daoist Revered Tai Heng had left, nor whether he had any chance of achieving further breakthroughs.
Ji Xiao often joked that he was “too old to die,” but only Ji Xiao—or the current Hu Si—dared to say such things. Everyone else in Han Shan, and even practitioners from other sects, maintained a deep respect for someone as powerful and long-lived as Tai Heng, whose profound strength made him an awe-inspiring figure.
…
In the dim and silent hall, eternal lamps burned steadily, their flames flickering faintly.
Zhou Yi stood outside the heavy curtain, bowing as he reported every detail of the information from Hanmen City and Hengtong Juyuan.
For a while, the only sound was the steady drip of the water clock echoing in the hall. The silence around him felt suffocating. Zhou Yi, growing increasingly uneasy, searched his thoughts for anything he might have said wrong. Hastily, he added:
“Those two—Meng Xueli and Xiao Tingyun—are nothing more than insignificant ants in the Qi Refinement stage. Naturally, they are unworthy of Daoist Revered’s attention. But Qian Yuzhi is a deceitful and shameless man. He has repeatedly rejected the goodwill of my Zhou family, yet today he conspires with those two. I dared to speculate there might be something suspicious about this, which is why I reported it to you.”
Zhou Yi was well aware of Daoist Revered Tai Heng’s dislike for Qian Yuzhi.
Qian Yuzhi’s decision to abandon swordsmanship and turn to business, severing ties with Han Shan, was considered a disgrace to the sect. Under Daoist Revered Tai Heng’s orders, the entire Zhou family by the Huai River was forbidden from trading with Qian Yuzhi, ensuring he wouldn’t earn a single coin from them.
Yet over the decades, Hengtong Juyuan had grown into a successful enterprise with branches everywhere, known for offering quality goods at fair prices. This prohibition had gradually been ignored, either intentionally or unintentionally.
Still, the Supreme Elder’s disdain for Qian Yuzhi only deepened.
In truth, this resentment seemed irrational. After all, Qian Yuzhi was neither Tai Heng’s disciple nor his descendant, yet Tai Heng treated him as though he were.
There are always some people who, as they age, can’t bear to see young people living comfortably. They believe the younger generation should endure hardships—preferably greater than the ones they themselves faced when cultivating swordsmanship. Only then would such suffering be deemed “normal.”
If someone avoided this prescribed struggle and still lived well, it had to be abnormal—something was certainly wrong.
After Ji Xiao’s death, Changchun Peak was left with only his widow. The faction loyal to the Supreme Elder in Han Shan argued that spending 30,000 top-grade spirit stones annually to support the “useless” Meng Xueli was an outrageous waste of resources. The sect leader and the five peak masters disagreed, asserting that since Meng Xueli was Ji Xiao’s Dao companion, the support was his rightful due.
Thus, Tai Heng Daozun sent his chief disciple to secretly negotiate with Qian Yuzhi, who managed Ji Xiao’s private treasury.
Zhou Yi had thought this task would be foolproof. Strength determines authority, he believed. Ji Xiao had been the strongest, so he had deserved the best of everything, and Han Shan had operated according to his will. Now that Ji Xiao was dead, wasn’t it obvious who Han Shan should obey?
However, the conversation with Qian Yuzhi turned out to be extremely unpleasant.
When Zhou Yi arrived at Hengtong Juyuan, the manager invited him upstairs. Qian Yuzhi sent someone to serve tea and water, his manner polite and courteous.
Zhou Yi presented Qian Yuzhi with two straightforward choices: transfer Ji Xiao’s private treasury to the public coffers of Han Shan, or allow the Zhou family by the Huai Shui to take over half of the business, leaving the other half for Qian Yuzhi’s personal use. A wise man would have chosen the second option. Yet, Qian Yuzhi chose neither. Though his face bore a polite smile, his words were impenetrable.
Zhou Yi’s patience began to wear thin. “This is an order from Daoist Revered Tai Heng. Do you dare to disobey?”
Qian Yuzhi tapped his folding fan on the table and said, “Senior Brother Zhou, don’t use Daoist Revered’s name to pressure me. I am no longer a sword cultivator. Businessmen value profit, not morals. If the Sword Sovereign offered me fifty percent of the profits, I’d naturally work for him.”
Zhou Yi’s expression turned icy. “The Sword Sovereign has fallen. A wise man adapts to the times. Don’t you understand this?”
Qian Yuzhi smiled indifferently. “The Sword Sovereign may have passed, but his Dao companion is still here, and Changchun Peak still stands. Everyone knows that a married couple is one body.”
“What if his Dao companion were no longer here either? By then, if you wanted to find a new patron, it would already be too late!”
Qian Yuzhi chuckled and shook his head, then flicked open his folding fan with a sharp snap. Four bold, black characters were written on the fan: “None of your business.”
Zhou Yi’s face darkened, and he rose abruptly. “You’re being insolent!”
Still waving his fan with the words “None of your business”, Qian Yuzhi lowered his voice and said:
“Although my cultivation is lacking, I am not someone to be easily manipulated. In all my shops, banks, and pawnshops across the mortal realm, I’ve left behind soul lamps. The managers and managers have memorized my instructions. Should one of my soul lamps extinguish, they will immediately open the silk pouches I’ve left behind and act according to the orders within.
“If I were to die, it wouldn’t take half an hour for the entire mortal realm—and even the three realms—to know why. They’d hear that Daoist Revered Tai Heng coveted the Sword Sovereign’s treasury, killed me for profit, and persecuted the younger generation. Don’t believe me? Try it.”
Before Zhou Yi could respond, Qian Yuzhi raised his voice and called out, “Someone! See our esteemed guest out!”
Hearing this, Zhou Yi’s mind raced. He forcibly swallowed his anger and returned to Han Shan’s Jingsi to report to Daoist Revered Tai Heng.
With Daoist Revered Tai Heng’s cultivation, killing Qian Yuzhi was not impossible. However, some people caused more trouble in death than they ever did in life.
Qian Yuzhi had invested considerable effort into his business. His trade routes spanned the mortal realm, seamlessly connecting the world of cultivators and the secular world. His network of communication, both overt and covert, was vast and intricate.
To be so audacious, he must have had formidable preparations and significant leverage.
Moreover, his managwes were fiercely loyal. While Qian Yuzhi could be killed, could thousands, even tens of thousands, of people be eliminated simultaneously?
Besides, Daoist Revered Tai Heng didn’t want Qian Yuzhi dead; he wanted Qian Yuzhi to serve him.
After a while, the raspy, aged voice behind the curtain finally spoke:
“What do you think those two went to see Qian Yuzhi for?”
Zhou Yi carefully replied, “It might be related to Meng Xueli’s upcoming trip to the Hanhai Secret Realm.”
Meng Xueli had been an insignificant figure, but after publicly injuring Zhou Wu at Sword Training Platform and taking Xiao Tingyun, an innate sword body, as a disciple, the situation had become increasingly peculiar.
The voice behind the curtain asked again, “Why do you think our clan has endured for so long?”
Zhou Yi replied, “Because you stand unshaken, like the sun high above the heavens. Though the sun may occasionally be obscured by clouds, it never falls.”
“No! It is because we never underestimate hidden dangers, no matter how insignificant, like ants.”
Zhou Yi quickly said, “Disciple understands!”
The voice behind the curtain deepened, “This is their declaration of war against me.”
By “they,” it referred to the sect master and the peak leaders. Within Han Shan’s inner disciples, the tension between two factions had been steadily escalating.
The conflict was not born overnight. The sect master’s decision to harshly punish three individuals in the Disciplinary Hall had merely been the spark.
The sect master’s intention was to foster unity within the sect. However, in the sensitive period following Ji Xiao’s recent passing, every action was interpreted differently by the opposing faction. Meng Xueli and Xiao Tingyun’s sudden rise to prominence during this time made them seem like the sect master’s pawns sent to test the waters.
The elder behind the curtain said, “That Meng Xueli… I don’t think he’s simple. We need to act early.”
Zhou Yi responded, “Disciple understands. In the Hanhai Secret Realm, aside from arranging for someone to secure the victory, we’ll also take the opportunity to deal with him.”
The entire clan had meticulously prepared for the upcoming competition in the secret realm.
The voice behind the curtain softened slightly. “You may leave now.”
……
What exactly was inside the jade box?
It was no surprise that Qian Yuzhi’s words had been ambiguous. As a cultivator of his level, his spiritual senses were strong enough to faintly perceive the contents without opening the box. He could tell it contained a long, cylindrical object. But not knowing that Meng Xueli and Ji Xiao were merely nominal Dao companions, he naturally misunderstood.
Before parting, Qian Yuzhi handed Meng Xueli a jade token adorned with cloud patterns. With this token, Meng Xueli could access any Sword Sovereign business in the mortal realm marked with a cloud emblem on the bottom-right corner of their signs. He could withdraw spirit stones, magical artifacts, pills, and more at will.
After leaving “Hengtong Juyuan,” Meng Xueli immediately handed the token to Ji Xiao—he wasn’t the type to act like a family elder managing a child’s red envelope money.
Ji Xiao couldn’t help but smile wryly. Did his young Dao companion trust his disciple so much? Entrusting such a large estate so casually? Thankfully, that disciple was himself.
While heading back to the peak, Meng Xueli was preoccupied with thoughts of the gift and failed to notice the strange look his disciple gave him.
That evening, the breeze on Changchun Peak felt particularly warm, carrying the sweet scent of Hypericum flowers, Meng Xueli thought.
He and his eldest disciple lived next door to each other. Watching his disciple dutifully carry the jade box all the way back, Meng Xueli felt deeply gratified.
Ji Xiao handed the box to him. “Rest early.”
Meng Xueli stopped him, saying, “We’re family. No need to avoid each other. Let’s look at it together.”
After all, it was something your father left behind—there was no reason you couldn’t see it.
Meng Xueli solemnly opened the box, harboring a hidden anticipation he himself wasn’t fully aware of.
Then he pulled out…
An iron rod?
Meng Xueli stared blankly, holding up the iron rod. “Huh?”
“Cough, cough, cough!” Ji Xiao quickly took the rod from him. “That’s not how you use it. Look, let me show you.”
Author’s Note:
To those guessing unspeakable things—go reflect in the corner! And who guessed mink fur? Are you devils? Guessing a pet ferret maze is so cute, though!
Meng Xueli, why do you think everyone’s imagination went wild?
Meng Xueli: …Because the silly author wrote a silly story.
Juan Zhi: You’re a silly ferret too, be good.
Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.
