Chapter 70: Do You Believe It or Not
Liu Jing said, “Good question! Why was that?”
Everyone looked toward Meng Xueli.
Ji Xiao felt embarrassed. Embarrassment was a strange, unfamiliar emotion for him, so he only pressed his thin lips together and let his gaze drift into the distance.
Meng Xueli, on the other hand, wore “embarrassment” plain on his face. Flushed red, he quickly put away Hundred Generations of Time, looking like a child caught in the middle of some mistake: “I don’t know, it was all an accident.”
That slash of his sword had looked carefree, but inside, he hadn’t been confident at all. When the blade touched the Absolute Spirit Array, a sudden vast power had surged up. It had felt as if someone were standing behind him, hand on his wrist, guiding him to strike that sword.
Meng Xueli swept his eyes over the group, replaying the scene in his mind. He had said he wanted to give it a try, and everyone had stepped back, clearing space for him. And now he claimed it hadn’t been his doing—what, were they supposed to believe a ghost had done it?
Ji Xiao cleared his throat softly, avoiding his gaze. “Ahem, perhaps it was because you are Ji Xiao’s dao companion.”
Meng Xueli thought, what kind of catch-all excuse was that? Was being a “dao companion” supposed to explain everything?
But to his surprise, Song Qianyi nodded. “Yes. The Sword Sovereign created this formation, and Elder Meng is the Sword Sovereign’s dao companion. The two of you share a connected aura. Perhaps breaking the formation with sword-qi of the same root and source made the effort twice as effective…”
When she mentioned “connected aura,” her teammates exchanged looks of sudden realization. Dao companions had dual-cultivation methods that allowed their qi to merge and intertwine as one.
“Is that so?” Meng Xueli muttered in disbelief. “Sounds less convincing than saying Ji Xiao’s spirit was watching over me from the heavens.”
Ji Xiao sighed quietly in his heart. He reached into his storage pouch, pulled out a handful of pine nuts, and pressed them into Meng Xueli’s hand. “Don’t overthink it. Save your energy.”
He knew Meng Xueli liked to shield the team, to take on hardship alone, and that he enjoyed being praised as capable—just like when he had escorted that mining squad earlier. Ji Xiao wanted to please him, to do something good for him, to make him happy. Yet this first attempt at secretly “helping” had turned clumsy for lack of practice: the Absolute Spirit Array and the teleportation array were both destroyed. Instead of his little Dao companion looking up at him with shining eyes and declaring, “I conquered it with virtue,” he was now only bewildered, at a complete loss.
Liu Jing asked, “Now that the array’s ruined, what do we do?”
Meng Xueli stayed quiet. Ji Xiao answered, “The Central City.”
Jing Di cast a cautious look at Xiao Tingyun. That master-disciple pair from Changchun Peak had shown no intimate gestures, yet something about the close, tacit bond between them seemed to leave no space for outsiders. He countered, “One teleportation array’s gone, but there are still three. We should hurry to the next one. Based on our earlier reasoning, Ning Wei and his people sealed off three arrays—most likely they’re guarding the last one, checking everyone trying to leave the secret realm, lying in wait for prey.”
“And then what? March right in and get beaten? If we can fight, then fight; if not, run?” Song Qianyi wished she could shake his head to see if it was filled with water from Mingyue Lake. “The Hanhai Secret Realm is vast. The four arrays are spread out to the east, west, south, and north, all at great distances. If the enemy could block the arrays, then they surely have other methods too. We can’t just let them lead us around by the nose! The tournament is already in its later stages. The remaining participants are either on their way to those arrays or already at Central City preparing for the final battle. They have a right to know what’s happening. I agree with Daoist Friend Xiao.”
Jing Di snapped, “Other participants? Auntie Song, we can hardly protect ourselves right now. Why bother worrying about them?!”
Meng Xueli had already gathered his thoughts. “We should. I have a plan—we go to Central City.”
He was grateful that Jing Di’s team included disciples from all five major sects, so he wasn’t cut off from news. If they ignored this, the worst outcome later could be that five of the six sects’ most elite disciples—all those who had received secret instructions from their masters—would leave the realm within three days, while only Han Shan disciples, small-sect disciples, and wandering cultivators remained in ignorance, turned into sacrifices for a hidden scheme. Of course, this was just his speculation.
Zheng Mu, “Then I’ll follow Elder Meng’s lead.”
Xu Sanshan, “Me too.”
After all, Meng Xueli had just cut through two layers of formations in a single strike. He was clearly the strongest fighter in the group. Once he spoke, neither Jing Di nor his teammates objected again.
Que Xianming had been sitting on a slope not far off, enjoying the view. When he saw they had finished their discussion and were ready to depart, he dusted off his robes and leapt down. As he passed Meng Xueli, he sent a sound-transmission grumbling, “Are humans always this troublesome? Why can’t you just fight it out properly? You’ve been living in the human world so long you’ve picked up all their habits!”
Meng Xueli comforted him, “Don’t worry. There’ll be a fight soon enough.”
The team set off again. As usual, Ji Xiao and Meng Xueli fell behind at the rear. After a while, Meng Xueli was still brooding over the destroyed formations. All of a sudden, he sent a sound-transmission: “Tingyun.”
“Hm?” Ji Xiao turned his head, meeting the bright, expectant eyes of his little dao companion. In that instant, his heart softened.
“Do you believe that Ji Xiao is still alive?” Meng Xueli had barely spoken when he immediately added, “I’m not crazy.”
…
Spring at Han Shan—though the mountainside and above were still wrapped in ice and snow, there was more green now, more movement and sound.
Streams and waterfalls flowed again. Beasts ended their hibernation, crawling out of caves to hunt and forage. Birds chattered on the branches, rising and falling in flocks. Yet all this liveliness ended abruptly at Jingsi Valley.
The residence of the Supreme Elder lay in a secluded valley on the back side of Han Shan. The terrain was lower, the snow had already melted, and from afar it looked lush and verdant. Unlike Ji Xiao’s former cave-dwelling at Jietian Cliff, where snow and wind raged year-round and dripping water froze into ice, this place was quieter still—utterly silent.
The Sect Master followed Zhou Yi into the path called Skyline Path. Giant rocks had fallen from the cliff walls on both sides, leaving only a narrow gap above where a faint strip of sunlight shone through. On the day Ji Xiao attained sainthood, the Supreme Elder had begun his long seclusion. Since then, this dark, constricted path had been the only way in and out of Jingsi Valley. The path was steeped in the Supreme Elder’s ethereal sword intent, empty and annihilating; walking it always left people oppressed. The Sect Master had come here several times before and had gradually grown used to it.
Emerging from Skyline Path, the view opened wide, light pouring down. Yet as they went along, the valley was frighteningly still. Pavilions and towers stood empty among the mountains and streams. Not a single figure was in sight.
The Sect Master’s expression showed doubt, his pace slowing. Zhou Yi seemed to notice his confusion and explained, “Daoist Revered is on the verge of a great breakthrough. All the disciples and juniors are in the rear hall, copying scriptures and praying for Daoist Revered.”
The Sect Master nodded. The Supreme Elder had never lacked disciples at his side. For them, loyalty and service were an honor, a way to gain Daoist Revered’s instruction. As for how that service was shown—copying scriptures, burning incense, fasting, and praying in meditation were common.
Deep in the valley, the two of them walked through a long corridor. Zhou Yi pushed open the doors of the hall: “Please.”
Inside, the temple was hushed. Two rows of eternal lamps burned dimly. At the far end, a heavy curtain hung low. The Sect Master entered and bowed deeply: “Daoist Revered.”
From behind the curtain came an aged voice: “Come forward.”
The Sect Master answered. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Zhou Yi’s expression—head lifted, breath quick. In the past, Zhou Yi had always kept his eyes lowered before the Supreme Elder. Was he nervous? But why? Suspicion prickled in the Sect Master’s heart. As he took three steps forward, memories flashed in his mind—changes in the secret realm, Meng Xueli’s warning, Tai Heng’s seclusion, the emptiness of this valley—all linking together in a line.
Suddenly, a warning surged in his chest. He whirled around, drawing his sword: “You—!”
“Shhh!”
Zhou Yi’s move was even faster. The Sect Master’s blade left its sheath halfway before his sword aura shattered. He clutched his stomach and slowly sank to his knees.
A short dagger pierced through his protective true essence and buried itself in his abdomen. Blood gushed out.
At the same time, the eternal lamps flared violently, flooding the hall with blinding light. The glazed tiles beneath the Sect Master turned ice-cold, flashing with strange violet patterns as the formation trapped him in its glow.
The figure behind the curtain stood, and with him rose the vast, crushing pressure of the Nascent Soul stage, rolling across the hall like a tidal sea. His shadow loomed huge against the curtain.
The Sect Master knelt on the ground. That dagger was indeed a divine weapon, layered with formation marks and empowered with several techniques. Its chilling aura instantly invaded his body, shredding his true essence.
He quickly pieced together the cause and effect. Fury surged and stuck in his chest: “The Absolute Spirit Array of Wuyin Sect? The sword aura of Mingyue Lake? Daoist Revered—have you grown senile? To collude with outside enemies is no different from seeking skin from a tiger!”
From above, Zhou Yi looked down, his face expressionless: “You’re still this stupid.” For speed and precision, he had not even used his long sword. Who knew how many times he had rehearsed this strike—he understood it had to land in one blow, in one instant. He could not give his opponent a chance to send a signal or trigger the Han Shan Grand Array.
Zhou Yi, “Daoist Revered has ordered it. Hand over the array core, and you will be spared. Inside the Absolute Spirit Array, the core is useless anyway.”
Unexpectedly, the Sect Master’s eyes only flickered with shock, anger, and regret—yet quickly calmed.
“Impossible. The Han Shan guardian array is the foundation of the sect, the key to repelling enemies. The core has always been safeguarded by generations of Sect Masters.”
If the guardian array was a chain of interlocking locks that together shielded Han Shan, then the core was the master key. With it, one could command the array to defend allies or strike enemies. In other words, if the Supreme Elder obtained the core, and the Five Peak Masters defied him, he could order the array to attack them. Han Shan would inevitably fall into civil strife.
Zhou Yi’s lips curled in mockery, his voice arrogant: “Safeguarded by generations of Sect Masters? Jianwei, do you know why Ji Xiao chose you as Sect Master? In our generation of disciples, geniuses abounded. In wit and cleverness, you were no match for Yuan Ziye. In judging talent and making use of people, you were no match for Qian Yuzhi. In swordsmanship, you were not even as good as me. What worth or qualification did you have to lead Han Shan?”
Yuan Ziye was the mundane name of the Ziyan Peak Master. After the war between the mortal and demon realms, Han Shan had suffered heavy losses, and the new Sect Master and Peak Masters had all been established under Ji Xiao’s hand.
The Sect Master thought: Yuan Ziye was obsessed with gambling, Qian Yuzhi with trade. Han Shan could not be led by a gambling addict or a profiteer. As for you—better left unsaid.
He countered: “You think I was unworthy of being Sect Master? When the Sword Sovereign was alive, he said the leader of Han Shan must put the greater good above all, sect rules first, personal desires last. Tell me honestly, all these years—have I ever abused power for selfish gain? Have I done a single wicked thing? Have I wronged Daoist Revered Tai Heng, or the Zhou clan of Huai Shui?”
Zhou Yi laughed as though he had heard a joke: “Stop deceiving yourself. What Han Shan sect rules? They’re just Ji Xiao’s family rules. Ji Xiao thought you the dullest, easiest to control. Whatever he said, you believed. That’s the only reason he made you Sect Master—so he could control Han Shan from behind. Ji Xiao not hungry for power? He was just a hypocrite.”
The Sect Master sighed softly. He did not continue to argue. He only shook his head. “It wasn’t like that.”
But Ji Xiao was gone. The reasons why he had supported Jianwei Zhenren as Sect Master had died with him, leaving no proof.
Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.
