Although the words were said casually, gasps could be heard from all around. Many of the martial gods had the same thought: You're nothing more than a powerless rubbish god! How could you be so shameless as to tell Lang Qianqiu, the one Martial God of the East, "fight me and you will surely die"? What arrogance! It was like he asked to be banished because fighting Lang Qianqiu was beneath him. Absolute bullshit.
And yet Lang Qianqiu didn't seem to think he was exaggerating at all. "I already said life and death don't matter! I don't need you to let me off easy!"
Xie Lian ignored him and reiterated his request to Jun Wu. "Please, My Lord, banish me to the lesser realm."
Shi Qingxuan suddenly raised his hand. "Wait! I have more to say!"
"Speak, Wind Master," Jun Wu said.
"Everyone here seems to think His Highness Xianle assumed the name Fangxin and spilled the blood of Yong'an royalty for revenge. But if it was revenge, then why did he let the Crown Prince of Yong'an, His Highness Tai Hua, go? Logically, someone carrying out an act of vengeance would want to cut down the crown prince most of all. Am I wrong?"
It wasn't that no one had thought of this detail, but no one had thought it necessary to voice it. Now that the Wind Master had taken the lead in doing so, some nodded their heads in agreement.
Shi Qingxuan continued, "His Highness and I haven't known each other for long, but I did see with my own eyes him fighting head-on against the scimitar Eming to protect His Highness Tai Hua. Qianqiu, if he felt hatred for the Yong'an monarchy, why would he be willing to risk his life and body to defend you against the blade?"
When Feng Xin and Mu Qing heard that Xie Lian had faced Eming head-on, they both stared at him. There was a hushed grumbling of "Maybe he just felt guilty," but Shi Qingxuan immediately raised his voice to drown out the whispers.
"That was the Weapon of Misfortune, you know! The Cursed Blade itself! So I think this whole business is highly suspect!"
"I'm so envious that His Highness has gained Lord Wind Master's protection and is being defended so earnestly," Pei Ming said. "Too bad our Little Pei wasn't so fortunate."
"General Pei, don't muddy the waters," Shi Qingxuan said. "Can we even compare Little Pei's case to this? I saw him commit crimes with my own eyes, and I heard with my own ears when he admitted to those crimes."
"How is that different from what's happening here?" Pei Ming argued. "His Highness Tai Hua saw Xie Lian commit crimes with his own eyes, and he heard him admit to those crimes with his own ears. How is that any different?"
Shi Qingxuan grew furious and was about to argue back when Xie Lian seized him.
"Lord Wind Master, thank you. I am in your debt. But there's no need."
Shi Qingxuan hadn't thought of a good comeback for Pei Ming yet, so he only pointed at him, unable to get any further words out.
Finally, Jun Wu spoke, his tone tranquil. "Everyone, please calm yourselves."
His voice wasn't particularly loud, very serene actually, yet everyone within the Palace of Divine Might heard his words clearly, and they all moved back to their designated positions. Once the hall settled down, Jun Wu spoke again.
"Tai Hua, your actions have always been impulsive. When situations arise, one must not be rash. Listen with a cool head, assess, and then evaluate once you know the whole story."
Lang Qianqiu lowered his head to heed the lesson.
Jun Wu continued, "Xianle refuses to give us that full story, so his request for banishment is denied. He will be detained in the Palace of Xianle, and I will personally interrogate him. The two of you shall not meet until I do so."
It was a conclusion no one had expected: Jun Wu had actually shielded Xie Lian, the Laughingstock of the Three Realms who had neither temples, nor devotees, nor merits!
Lang Qianqiu was the martial god who ruled the east; if he was unhappy with the verdict, then what a losing business this would be! Even so, Jun Wu chose to shield Xie Lian… Didn't that mean he was still very much in the Emperor's favor?!
Many of the officials now saw which way the wind was blowing and decided that, going forward, they wouldn't publicly say the words "Laughingstock of the Three Realms." Shi Qingxuan let out a sigh of relief and loudly praised Jun Wu for his wisdom. Lang Qianqiu, on the other hand, only stared intently at Xie Lian.
"Whatever My Lord wishes to learn from his questioning, he is free to try. But whatever the conclusion, I will still duel him!"
With that, Lang Qianqiu bowed to Jun Wu, then turned and left the hall. At the wave of Jun Wu's hand, a pair of martial officials came forward to escort Xie Lian away.
As they passed by Shi Qingxuan, Xie Lian spoke quietly to him, "Lord Wind Master, thanks for everything. But if you really do want to help me, don't say any more on my behalf—instead, can I ask you to do two things for me?"
Shi Qingxuan was still feeling guilty about fanning the fire that burned down Paradise Manor, and he wished dearly that Xie Lian would ask him for a hundred things. "Whatever you need."
"The boy I brought up here with me is in the side palace. Please take care of him," Xie Lian said.
"A trivial matter! What's the second thing?" Shi Qingxuan said.
"If General Pei decides he wants to make things difficult for Banyue in the future, please help her out."
"Of course," Shi Qingxuan replied. "I won't let Pei Ming get his way. Where is she?"
"I've hidden her in a small pickle jar in my Puqi Shrine. If you can, please air her out on occasion," Xie Lian said.
"…"
After allowing Xie Lian to thank the Wind Master, the two heavenly officials brought him to the Palace of Xianle.
"Please, Your Highness," they said courteously as they excused themselves.
Xie Lian bowed his head. "Thanks for the trouble."
Stepping through the front gates, Xie Lian closed the doors behind him. Looking around, it was all as he expected, all as he remembered. The palace's appearance and all its rooms and facilities were exactly the same as his previous Palace of Xianle. The last time he passed by, he didn't enter. He would never have guessed that the first time he set foot in here would be due to a house arrest. Not the best sign.
But after so much excitement over the past few days, Xie Lian felt drained. He passed out immediately.
He dreamt of many things.
He seemed to be meditating with his eyes closed, and when he blinked his eyes open, he found himself sitting upright before a desk. His black robes flowed on the floor in layers around him, and on his face there was a cold, heavy mask.
When he looked down, the sight before him was a young boy sprawled over the desk. The boy appeared to be fourteen or fifteen years of age and was dressed sumptuously. His form strummed with life, but he was fast asleep all the same.
He shook his head and walked over. Bending slightly, he knocked on the desk with his knuckles. "Your Highness."
Maybe it was because of that cold mask, but even his voice was cool. The boy woke up with a start. When he looked up and saw him, he jolted and sat upright immediately in horror.
"S-S-S-State Preceptor!!"
He said, "You fell asleep again. Transcribe Dao De Jing ten times as punishment."
The crown prince cried out in dismay. "Shifu, please no! Why don't you have me run ten laps around the palace as punishment instead?"
"Transcribe it twenty times. Do it now, and try to write nicely."
The crown prince seemed to fear him, and he sat up properly to start copying. Xie Lian then sat back in his original position and continued to meditate. In truth, everyone in the palace was a little scared of him. But this estrangement, this aura of untouchable and oppressive power, was one that he cultivated intentionally.
Perhaps it was due to this crown prince's young age, but he could never hold any such fear for long. Shortly after he started transcribing the scripture, he called out, "Shifu!"
He opened his eyes. "What is it?"
"I learned all the sword techniques you taught me last time. Isn't it time for a new technique?" the crown prince said.
"All right. What do you want to learn?" he asked.
"I want to learn the technique you used to save me!" the crown prince exclaimed.
He contemplated for a brief moment, then said, "That move? No."
"Why not?" the crown prince asked.
"That technique is impractical. At least, it's not suitable for you," he explained.
The crown prince was confused. "But isn't it useful? Using one sword to dissolve the power of two swords! You saved me with that technique!"
It was normal for the crown prince not to understand. He said, "Your Royal Highness, let me ask you a question."
"Go ahead!"
"There were once two people, eyes bloodshot with hunger. They started fighting, each hoping to rob the other of their food. In came a third person, and he wanted to stop the fight. Do you think words would be effective in this situation?"
"…I don't think so? Talking would be useless. They only want food, right?"
"Correct. Because the root of the problem hasn't been solved, no one will listen to your grand explanations. Thus, the only way this third person can stop the fight is to provide what they want. To give them food from his own purse."
The crown prince seemed to understand but also seemed not to.
"The reasoning now is the same. You must understand that the moment a sword is unsheathed, someone will be hurt. When force is released, something must receive it.
Thus, it is wrong to say I dissolved the force of two swords. Nothing was dissolved; I absorbed their attacks. To stop an attack by hurting oneself is a foolish technique and only to be used when there are no other alternatives.
As a noble crown prince, you've no use for something like that."
The crown prince continued to copy his scriptures, but he still looked contemplative a while later.
He asked, "Do you have any other questions?"
After a moment of hesitation, the crown prince said, "One thing. Shifu, if the third person didn't have enough food, what then?"
"…"
The crown prince continued, "If both of the hungry had gotten food, but wanted more, and fought harder because of greed and sought more food from the third person, what should be done?"
"What do you think?" he asked.
The crown prince pondered and said, "I don't know… Maybe he shouldn't have intervened from the start."
***
The great hall was gold. Everything was gold. Right now, however, it was awash with red.
At every golden banquet table, a person was sprawled. Their throats were slit, all tragic deaths.
The hand that gripped the sword wouldn't stop shaking. The stately king was covered in blood, and his eyes were red, filled with pain and hate. By his feet was the dead body of the queen. With sword in hand, he took one step after another and made his way over. When the king looked up and saw him, he was supremely dumbfounded.
"State Preceptor? You…"
The sword struck with cold, cruel force.
Just then, he sensed something and whipped his head around. The young crown prince stood outside the door amidst the corpses of guards strewn across the entrance floor. The boy's eyes were blank, as if doubting what he saw was real. He took a step forward and almost tripped on the threshold, dazed and disoriented.
He withdrew the sword, and blood splattered his black robes.
The crown prince hadn't tripped on the threshold but on the dead bodies sprawled on the ground. He threw himself on the king's body, his voice finally returning.
"Father?! Mother?!"
But the king would never speak again. The crown prince couldn't shake his father awake. He whipped his head around toward him, his eyes wide.
"Shifu! What are you doing? What did you do?! State Preceptor!!"
It was a long while before he heard his own voice, devoid of emotion—
"You all deserved it."
***
Xie Lian slept fitfully and rolled awake with a start.
He blearily rubbed his eyes and discovered he hadn't actually slept for that long, and moreover, he didn't even dream of anything nice. To the latter point, it was a good thing that something had jabbed him in the chest and woken him. He sat in silence for a while, then felt around in his clothes and found something. He opened his palm and revealed two dice, the same ones from Paradise Manor.
A sea of red floated in his mind's eye. The scene was blurry, but that crimson figure was supremely distinct, gazing intently at him, unmoving. Xie Lian sighed.
I wonder how much is left of San Lang's Paradise Manor. If I get banished again, who knows how much junk I'll have to sell or how long it'll take to pay him back…decades, centuries; if anything, I'll pay him the rest of my life.
Xie Lian stared at the dice for a bit before clapping his hands closed in a prayer; he shook the dice in his palms and rolled them to the ground. The dice rattled and rolled before coming to a stop.
As expected, all the luck he had borrowed from Hua Cheng was used up. He was hoping for another roll of two sixes, but it came up snake eyes.
Xie Lian couldn't help but puff out a rueful breath and shake his head.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming from behind. He stiffened and packed away both his smile and the dice.
The footsteps didn't sound like those of Jun Wu. Jun Wu's footfalls were steady and composed, quite unhurried. Similarly, although Hua Cheng walked with nonchalance and lacked decorum, often lazy and languid, his air of confidence and surety was identical to Jun Wu's. These footsteps, in contrast, could be called a little floaty.
Xie Lian turned his head and was taken aback. "It's you."
The person who had arrived was clad in black, his face fair and his lips thin. His expression was indifferent, appearing incomparably aloof. Although a martial god, he looked more like a civil god. Who else could it be but Mu Qing?
He saw Xie Lian's startled expression and raised his brows. "Who did you think I was? Feng Xin?"
Without waiting for a response, he lifted his black robes and crossed the threshold of the door. "Well, Feng Xin probably won't come."
"What are you doing here?" Xie Lian asked.
"The Emperor detained you and barred His Highness Tai Hua from coming here. But he didn't say I couldn't come," Mu Qing said.
He didn't bother answering Xie Lian's question. Fine. Xie Lian wasn't actually curious anyway, so he didn't question him further. Mu Qing looked around the brand-new Palace of Xianle until his eyes finally ended up on Xie Lian. After looking him up and down, he suddenly tossed something at him. A blue blur glinted in the air; Xie Lian caught it with his left hand, and when he opened his palm, he found a small blue porcelain bottle.
It was a bottle of medicine. Mu Qing said apathetically, "It's pretty unsightly, dragging around that bloodied arm."
Xie Lian held the bottle but didn't move. He watched Mu Qing instead, a calculating expression on his face.
Since his third ascension, there could only be one phrase to describe the way Mu Qing treated him: passive-aggressive. It always felt like he was waiting for Xie Lian to get booted for the third time so he could make snide remarks. Yet now that Xie Lian might actually get booted that third time, he suddenly became pleasant—he even came specially to deliver medication. This complete reversal in attitude made Xie Lian feel quite disconcerted.
Seeing that Xie Lian wasn't moving, Mu Qing gave a faint smile.
"Use it if you want. Either way, no one else is coming to deliver you anything."
It wasn't an insincere smile; it was obvious that he was genuinely in an excellent mood at the moment. Although Xie Lian didn't feel any pain in his right arm, there was also no reason to just leave the injuries be. That pat from Jun Wu was a quick, emergency fix, but it would be better to heal it with medication. Thus, he opened the small blue bottle and poured the contents onto his arm without any particular care. What came out of the bottle was neither powder nor pill but instead a faint blue smoke. The smoke circulated languidly, wrapping around his arm, its scent cool and refreshing. It was certainly a high-grade healing item.
Mu Qing suddenly asked, "Was everything Lang Qianqiu said true? Did you really kill those Yong'an royals?"
Xie Lian looked up and met his gaze. Even if Mu Qing had been forcibly hiding it, Xie Lian still detected a trace of uncontrollable excitement in his eyes. He seemed highly interested in the details of Xie Lian's massacre at the Gilded Banquet—he followed with another question.
"How did you kill them?"
Just then, another set of heavy footfalls came from behind them. The two turned their heads in unison to see that the new visitor was Feng Xin. The moment he entered, he noticed Mu Qing in the main hall—who was even smiling as he stood next to a crouching Xie Lian. Feng Xin frowned with alarm.
"What are you doing here?"
Xie Lian waved the little bottle in his hand. Mu Qing schooled his expression. He had just said Feng Xin wouldn't be coming, and then Feng Xin arrived the next second; not funny at all.
"It's not like this is your palace. You think you can come but I can't?" Mu Qing rebutted.
Feng Xin ignored him and turned to Xie Lian. He hadn't yet opened his mouth when Xie Lian spoke up.
"If the two of you came to ask the same question, then I will give you the same answer. There's no reason to disbelieve it. Every word I said at the Palace of Divine Might today was true."
Feng Xin paled. Mu Qing loathed that expression of his the most and said in annoyance, "All right, put that face away. After everything, for who are you looking so pained?"
Feng Xin shot him a death glare. "Not for you! Get out of here!"
"And who are you to tell me to get out?" Mu Qing countered. "Speaking as if you're so loyal. How many years did you last, again? Didn't you run away too?"
Veins popped all over Feng Xin's forehead. Xie Lian could sense this exchange was going in the wrong direction and raised his hand.
"Hold it. Hold it."
As if Mu Qing were the type to hold it back. He sneered. "Everyone says you left because you couldn't stand to see your former master fall from grace. What a pretty excuse. At the end of the day, you just didn't want to waste the rest of your days following a broken man."
Feng Xin swung his fist. "What the fuck do you know?!"
Bam! Feng Xin's fist landed squarely on Mu Qing's face. Mu Qing was fine of features—a standard pretty boy—and upon impact of Feng Xin's mighty punch, it was like a persimmon had been smashed on his face —bloody and miserable. Yet he stood his ground, and without so much as a whine, he threw a punch right back.
When the two ascended, they both obtained their own spiritual weapons. And yet when anger overtook their senses, the best tools to release their rage were still their fists and feet. When Feng Xin and Mu Qing fought eight hundred years ago, their martial capabilities were at the same level, and after eight hundred years there was still no difference. Every thrown punch landed; the fistfight was messy and wild, and each of them held their own.
Feng Xin cried angrily, "Don't think I don't know your nasty thoughts! The more crimes he commits, the happier you become!!"
Mu Qing spat, "I knew you always looked down on me! What a joke! Do you see yourself?! What right do you have to look down on me? You're the pot calling the kettle black!"
Lang Qianqiu and Xie Lian hadn't even had a chance to start their duel, and Feng Xin and Mu Qing were already brawling. Their grudges had been building for a long time; the fight was uncontrolled and riotous, each cursing at the other without hearing what was cursed back, and they certainly had no mind to hear anything Xie Lian had to say. Xie Lian still remembered back when the three of them were younger: Mu Qing had been soft-spoken and well mannered, and if Feng Xin hit anyone it was only under Xie Lian's orders, and he'd stop when Xie Lian said stop. That was no longer true.
Dragging his injured arm, Xie Lian rushed toward the door, hoping to call for help from any nearby officials. But before he put even a single foot outside the main hall, there was an enormously loud BANG that exploded from the front door. Feng Xin and Mu Qing were shocked into stillness by the booming noise, their eyes alert, looking to where the sound came from.
The front doors to the Palace of Xianle had been kicked open. Beyond the door wasn't the expansive Grand Avenue of Divine Might of the Heavenly Court but rather a dead blackness.
And from within that darkness, innumerable chilling silver butterflies rushed out toward them.