Fang Longxi stared at the broken shoe, so startled that he even forgot to pick up the fallen gourd. The stone dragon, puzzled, seized it in its jaws and cocked its head to peer within.
Ah, it seems there is some activity in the secret realm.
Longxi, still half-dazed by the veil of spiritual treasure, only now realised it. His face turned ugly as he muttered: “Blast it. Are the disciples of the Immortal Sect all of this sort of disgusting behaviour nowadays?”
At that very instant, the gates of Fei’e Palace swung wide, and down swept several streaks of light, alighting upon the cloud beneath Fang Longxi. At their head was a red-robed elder, visage livid; even the dullest eye could sense both his fury and his agitation. “You! Open the secret realm!”
Longxi’s once-upright posture slackened. He tilted his head back, squinted, and lounged against the stone dragon, idly prodding an hourglass with his foot. His voice came languid: “The time is not yet come. It cannot be opened.”
The red-clad elder blazed with wrath. “You—!”
But another, an aged crone, restrained him. She turned to Longxi, voice thick with grief, almost like blood in the throat: “Fellow Daoist, my grandson is beset within the secret realm… this day we must enter, and slay the foe with our own hands!”
At her words Longxi paused, the careless air falling from him. He gazed long upon the white-haired matron; the lazy smile about his lips waned, for at last he recognised her.
He asked quietly: “Shimei, eight centuries we have been parted. Have you attained immortality?”
The old woman trembled, raising her eyes. The slovenly youth before her blurred, and for an instant overlapped with that bright-clad rider of old, the sword-bearing man who had once pointed steel at the very heavens.
“Fang Longxi?”
Once, she had deceived him of his spiritual treasure, struck down his altar, abandoned him, and brought about his disgrace. But what of it? Was not the world itself absurd? She merely obeyed the turn of Heaven’s tide.
Though she herself might never reach true immortality, she yet held her Wendao pill; with it, she might wrest a slender thread of Heaven’s vitality and ascend. But men such as Fang Longxi could only rot, forgotten, in their prison of earth.
“Longxi-shixiong, open the secret realm for us!”
“Why parley with him? A life for a life. It’s the oldest law! Open it, at once!”
“The villain slew my son. I shall grind him to ashes with mine own hands!”
The red-robed elder’s rage boiled over. He conjured forth a Heaven-shaking Seal and hurled it down. The old woman too drew her golden bell, and the three others would not lag behind. One and all cast their weapons at Longxi.
Yet Fang Longxi sat cross-legged, unmoving. As the treasures neared, he merely plucked the gourd from the dragon’s jaws, pulled free the stopper, and shook out a tiny sword.
It met the wind and lengthened, becoming a noble green blade.
As clear as autumn waters, its edge reaching the waist, the very aura of righteousness about it drove his foes stumbling back.
The red-robed elder retreated several paces, disbelief on his face. He’d clearly discerned that Fang Longxi’s cultivation was not even equal to his own.
Fang Longxi only smiled, mild as ever. “I have said it already. Until the appointed time, I shall not open the realm.”
Grinding his teeth, the elder was checked by the crone. She waved the others down. “So be it. We shall wait here.”
Fang Longxi returned to stillness, eyes lowered. The old woman approached, and silence hung. At last she spoke: “Shixiong, once you sacrificed me for righteousness, swore to save lives though it cost you immortality. And now? Where is that vaunted justice? To kill you? To visit you? To cast you aside?”
He did not stir.
She smiled faintly, with a trace of pity. “You chose wrongly in the end. No man in this world believes in you, Fang Longxi. They know only me, Minggong Yao.”
Once she, the red-robed beauty, had seized his credit. Fang Longxi’s reply had been: “Heaven errs not.” And he had neither argued nor protested.
The price: a shattered altar, a wounded foundation. Never again could he advance.
Fang Longxi opened his eyes. “Minggong, look.”
Minggong Yao frowned. “Look at what?”
He conjured something in his hand. “A mirror.”
With a furious cry she raised her hand and shattered the bronze. “A glamour of bones and beauty, nothing more!”
Fang Longxi folded his arms, leaning back against the dragon without care. Inwardly he thought: This is as far as I may aid them. Whether those youngsters may indeed avenge themselves, that lies with Heaven’s will.
Rays of precious light obscured the sky and the moon, obscuring the stone dragon’s presence. Though they were only at the Foundation Building stage, they possessed spiritual treasures and possessed a powerful aura, naturally making them significantly stronger than a humble figure like Zhu Xiaoyou.
There were seven spiritual treasures capable of blinding Fang Longxi’s senses, each one a cherished possession of an elder, gifted to a child for self-defense.
The resulting oppressive force was terrifying.
Zhu Xiaoyou’s gums bled, his spine beginning to bend. Xi Tao, seeing this, seized his hand and pressed a golden rune to his brow. He said: “I grant you the Solid Body from the Golden Flesh Sutra!”
Xi Tao’s hair streamed like a mad dragon; breath ragged, he roused the Buddhist beads again. Layer upon layer of lotus Dao-rhythm blossomed, one man and one treasure striving together to hold back the tide.
High above, upon the white cloud, sat Xue Cuo, still and grave. He gazed upon the starry nebula, then at last stirred. Dipping the green quill in golden ink, he drew talisman head and talisman heart with painstaking care.
His fingers shook, sliced by the talisman’s keen edge till blood welled, drop by drop. The blood spattering the paper into tiny clots of crimson.
Below, a disciple of the Dao cried: “Why does Xi Tao of Taiyi aid an outsider? In that case, don’t blame us!”
“And who is that little priest atop the cloud? What business has he there?”
“No matter who they are. Whosoever helps that devil is our foe.”
One among them seethed with hatred. “Slay them! But not swiftly. Let their bodies be shaped into cudgels, their souls bound as torches, to burn a thousand years at my shidi’s tomb!”
“The lowest dregs of the sect, who refuse to stay in their place. How dare they act so brazenly?”
“Grind them to dust, piece by piece. I’ll use their flesh and blood to sacrifice to the heroic spirit of my Kou En-shidi.”
“But Xi Tao cannot be killed. We must consider my shibo.”
“Very well. Spare him, then!”
Their treasures flashed—flying swords, jade butterflies, needles, shuttles—all bound by the restrictions of the Realm of Ten Thousand Gods, unable to unleash their full power because of the disciples’ limited cultivation and the sealed spiritual energy.
Still, united, the disciples drove their spirit treasures into countless blades and weapons raining down from the sky.
Zhu Xiaoyou’s pupils shrank. With a sudden motion, he shielded Xi Tao behind him and slashed upward.
“Eh.”
Xi Tao’s expression changed. Gripping Zhu Xiaoyou’s hand, he bloomed another lotus-shaped Dao-rhyme barrier, blocking the incoming spiritual blade.
But Zhu Xiaoyou’s back split open, blood soaking his robes. He hissed, then gave a bitter smile: “You… shouldn’t have come. Just chance acquaintances. I don’t want to owe a debt I can’t repay.”
Xi Tao replied firmly: “A chance meeting can be closer than old friends. If I were the one in danger, would you stand aside?”
Zhu Xiaoyou didn’t hesitate: “Never.”
Xi Tao smiled faintly. Together, the two held on by sheer will.
Above, twelve shining spiritual platforms unfolded over Xue Cuo. Golden light rippled from the pool atop them, and a lotus forced itself open, shielding his entire body.
Zhu Xiaoyou roared, muscles straining: “Using treasures to crush us. What kind of skill is that? Have the guts to fight me head-on!”
“You? You’re unworthy.”
“Killing you would dirty my hands. Trash disciple, gutter swordsman, self-righteous devil. How dare you posture before us?”
“Mortal weed, ant. One finger is enough to crush you!”
“Demon spawn, how dare you wield a sword?”
The sky thickened with spiritual light. Just then, thirty-two talismans flared around them, igniting all at once.
A crisp, childlike voice echoed, solemn and heavy with Dao resonance:
[Summoning the gods.]
Duoh—
A deep reverberation followed, its source unknown.
Xi Tao’s heart shook. The other disciples exchanged doubtful looks. But these treasures were family heirlooms, bonded by blood-contracts. They couldn’t possibly go astray.
They lifted their eyes. On the drifting white cloud, the little child collapsed, utterly spent, tumbling down.
Xi Tao and Lu You were pinned, unable to help. Only the little white cloud darted forward towards its master in a panic, pushing back and cushioning his fall to the ground.
All of a sudden, the heavens changed.
The drifting nebula above began to coalesce. First, a spear. Then, an arm. Then, a breathtaking maiden.
She appeared astride a warhorse, towering four or five meters tall, flame-spear in hand. No longer striking the sky blindly, she looked down at the mortals with eyes full of awareness.
A moment later, the nebula condensed once more, forming a towering, robust giant with a dragon-tail draped in ribbons. He held a pair of massive axes and gazed indifferently at the tiny human on the ground.
An ancient, obscure aura washed over him, as if awakening not some remnant of the nebula, but an ancient, fierce deity.
Xi Tao forgot to breathe. Zhu Xiaoyou sucked in a ragged gasp beneath the weight of that presence.
The giant’s voice rumbled, devoid of emotion: “At your summons, I grant what you seek.”
His axe swung. The treasures in the air burst with light, only to be split apart by a stronger divine blow.
The maiden’s war-spear ignited in flames, her rage boundless: “Kill! Kill! Kill!”
The three cries boomed like drums at their ears.
The spear was unstoppable, sweeping across everything, shattering the well-behaved spiritual treasure into pieces, leaving it utterly unstable.
The giant raised his axe and chopped it down. One of the bells trembled, shrank, and flew back to its owner, clearly unable to withstand the impact.
Xi Tao and Xue Cuo felt the crushing pressure ease. Zhu Xiaoyou bolted to Xue Cuo: “Shixiong!”
Xue Cuo’s eyes opened wide, nose bleeding, tears slipping silently: “It hurts… it hurts…”
The little white cloud pressed comfortingly against his cheek.
Zhu Xiaoyou nearly wept, voice breaking: “Shixiong, I…”
Above, the sky detonated. Someone let out a scream. Blood spurted from mouths. Xi Tao looked up to see the giant axe and spear had swept aside the sect disciples’ treasures like garbage, smashing them down into the secret realm.
The disciples staggered, horrified.
“My treasure! Who stole my treasure?!”
“What are those things in the sky?! So terrifying. I’ve never seen the like!”
Xue Cuo coughed twice and lightly grasped Zhu Xiaoyou’s hand. His eyes shone brightly, as if they could hold the light of unseen stars.
He understood Zhu Xiaoyou’s anger, his rage, and the heartache he felt at losing his good friend. Xue Cuo said, “Xiaoyou-shidi, I’ll leave the rest to you.”
Xi Tao brushed the Buddha beads in his hand: “The Dao is just. Blood for blood, vengeance for vengeance.”
Zhu Xiaoyou rasped: “Yes.”
He rose, sword in hand, and walked step by step toward the disciples stripped of their treasures. Xi Tao and Xue Cuo stared at the young man’s back.
He stood straight, with unstoppable courage, pointing his sword at the cultivators: “Which of you is called Huang Zizhuo?”
“Don’t overestimate yourself. Die!”
A cultivator sneered, drawing his sword and stepping forward.
Slash.
A single strike sealed the throat, the blood of the mortal world ran cold.
Outside the Realm of Ten Thousand Gods, more streams of light descended. One disciple wailed, drawing his sword in fury: “My child! My child! Father will avenge you! Filthy Daoist, open the secret realm!!!”
On his stone dragon, Fang Longxi hugged his sword, smiling faintly: “I’m afraid not. It is my duty… and until the time arrives, it cannot be opened.”
Soon, more streaks of light descended, each one shouting the same opening line: “Filthy Daoist, open the secret realm!”
