Ying Xiao bore Xuan Zhao on his back as he flew out of the city.
The moment he touched the ground, he looked towards his master. Gu Ruhui sat cross-legged, eyes closed in meditation; at the sound of wind he knew at once it was Ying Xiao.
“You’re back.”
“Master.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No. But Master Xuan has lost a leg.”
When they had finished speaking, Gu Ruhui stood to inspect the damage. Hearing that Xuan Zhao was injured, he hopped down on his single remaining leg, swearing as he went. It was a borrowed body, after all… hardly anything to feel pain over. So he was more interested in finding Xue Cuo to argue with. “Where’s that brat? I’m never going out again.”
Gu Ruhui looked up. “Little shixiong has gone to check the qi pulses.”
Just then, a breath of wind swept through the trees.
Both men raised their heads. A young man in azure robes skimmed overhead, with a white-haired tiger leaping after him. He missed his target and snorting in displeasure. Xue Cuo landed lightly, smiling. “Master Xuan truly has wit and foresight. It’s a blessing and wisdom in equal measure. One man worth three armies.”
Xuan Zhao floated a little under the praise, but the memory of nearly dying in the city tightened his nerves again. Worried that Xue Cuo was setting him up for something, he muttered and refused to answer.
Seeing that Xuan Zhao’s clay body lacked a leg, Xue Cuo offered to fetch some lotus mud to mend it. Xuan Zhao’s face lit up. He’d been dead for ages, but having a body was still a luxury. And he lived in constant fear that Xue Cuo might reclaim it.
Gu Ruhui came over as well. “Where can we get lotus mud nearby?”
Yin Feixue thought nothing of it. He bent down, sniffed Xue Cuo to memorise the scent, then bounded up a tree and shot off to the north.
“I’ll be back.”
Xue Cuo rubbed his neck. Gu Ruhui paused, puzzled. Xue Cuo was perpetually wrapped in golden-lotus energy, and naturally carried a faint lotus fragrance. He didn’t overthink it. “His Majesty’s gone to fetch lotus mud. We’ll get Master Xuan’s leg reattached.”
Ying Xiao stood silently beside Gu Ruhui while they waited. Gu Ruhui handed him a wooden sword he had whittled in passing.
Xue Cuo had been lounging on a tree branch, one leg crossed over the other, chatting to Xuan Zhao, when Gu Ruhui dragged him down. “Little shixiong, I made one for you as well.”
These past days had made everything clear: Little shixiong lived every day on a knife’s edge, perpetually entangled with ancient gods and monstrous spirits. A few more skills would do him good. But Xue Cuo simply refused. He and Gu Ruhui circled the tree, one fleeing, one insisting. Gu Ruhui’s expression was solemn. “Little shixiong, your aptitude is exceptional. Just learn one move… to protect yourself.”
Xue Cuo poked his head out from behind the trunk. “If I can win, I fight; if I can’t, I run. I’m not learning. Absolutely not.”
Gu Ruhui fell silent for a moment, then slowly rolled up his sleeves. “If I catch you, you will learn one move from me. How about that?”
“…” Xue Cuo wondered if this blockheaded junior brother had been influenced by something unwholesome.
He weighed their skills in his mind. Competitive spirit rising, he agreed.
Ying Xiao stood aside, sword in hand, lighting a stick of incense to mark the time.
Xue Cuo wiped his nose proudly. “In terms of footwork, aside from Little Bird Kong , no one’s ever caught me.”
“Is that so?” Gu Ruhui asked mildly.
He struck without warning, his movement as fluid and sharp as a dragon’s shadow. Xue Cuo was like a silly bird stumbling straight into the trap. He activated the Supreme Freedom Technique and narrowly dodged, face changing as he floated up the tree. “You’re holding back on me!”
Gu Ruhui gazed up at him. “Little shixiong, why not just admit defeat?”
Xue Cuo folded his arms and refused to respond.
Gu Ruhui leapt up after him with ease. Both knew the other far too well, their reactions were razor-quick. One darted away; the other pretended to pursue only to shift his footing at the last second and strike from the side.
They flashed through the forest like a pair of quarrelling sprites, while Xuan Zhao and Ying Xiao crouched together watching.
Seeing Xue Cuo beginning to struggle, Xuan Zhao leaned over and secretly blew a few puffs at the incense, trying to make it burn faster.
Ying Xiao flicked his gaze sideways.
Xuan Zhao froze. “…”
Just as Gu Ruhui drove Xue Cuo into a dead end, Yin Feixue returned with the lotus mud. Xue Cuo seized the opening, stepped lightly on the wind, and landed behind him, neatly avoiding Gu Ruhui’s final strike.
At that moment, the incense stick burned out. Gu Ruhui, having failed to catch him, lowered his hand. “Little Senior Brother, time is up. You win.”
Yin Feixue blinked, utterly lost, tail flicking. “Were you two fighting?”
Xue Cuo looked utterly betrayed. “You’ve never used that move on me.”
Gu Ruhui knew Xue Cuo resisted the idea, but he still wanted him to learn something. He had planned so from the moment they met. One life-saving sword technique. And if that skill could one day help resolve the long-standing tension between Xue Cuo and his parents, all the better.
It seemed, however, that shixiong was destined to have no affinity whatsoever with the sword. Gu Ruhui only smiled faintly, unreadable. “But you avoided it, didn’t you?”
Xue Cuo rubbed his chin. Gu Ruhui said no more, turning instead to guide Ying Xiao through his sword forms… a demon sword tailored to his nature.
Yin Feixue, bright and quick-witted, quickly pieced the story together. But unlike Gu Ruhui, he had seen Xue Yinbing’s skill with his own eyes. He had seen the man move. His faith in him was absolute.
Xue Yinbing’s talent for talismans was one-of-a-kind, unmatched in ancient times or now. But the path had been cut off for millennia; with no peers, his brilliance had nowhere to shine.
He had wandered the mortal world for more than a century, encountering many so-called geniuses, but Xue Yinbing… Xue Yinbing stood at the summit of them all.
People thought he cultivated the Xianghuo Divine Dao, but Yin Feixue believed his true killing edge lay in those unremarkable talismans. Divinity merely played second fiddle.
So rather than pity him, he felt aggrieved on his behalf: a pearl of unmatched lustre, buried under dust.
While he was lamenting silently, he crouched next to Xue Cuo and shook his tiger head. “What are you doing now?”
Xue Cuo held a handful of lotus mud, shaping it into a thick, evenly rounded lump. “Making Master Xuan a leg.”
Xuan Zhao sprang up in outrage. “A leg? That’s not a leg, that’s a pillar!”
Yin Feixue rolled up his sleeves, picked up a twig, and very leisurely pushed Xue Cuo aside. “I’ll do it.”
Xue Cuo protested, “This is a craft, you know.”
Yin Feixue sized up Xuan Zhao’s torso and, with quick, deft movements, pinched out a perfectly proportioned leg. Every toe delicately shaped, with not a speck out of place.
Xue Cuo was struck dumb. Holding up the club-shaped thing he himself had moulded, he attempted to pass off a donkey as a horse. “Shidi, surely mine is much more… formidable?”
Gu Ruhui: “…”
In the end, Xue Cuo’s leg failed in bitter disgrace. Ying Xiao, however, offered support: “Xue-xiong’s leg would certainly intimidate evil spirits.”
Pity no one heeded him. Xuan Zhao, now equipped with a new limb, immediately began discussing the situation in Qianyun City with the others.
This time, though Xuan Zhao had sparked the quarrel between the two sides, Qianyun City had long fed upon faith; the strength of the Four Gods was impossible to gauge. Xue Cuo reckoned the turmoil would drag on for quite some time.
He had flown up the mountain earlier for a look. The incense in the city hadn’t lessened. It had grown. Something must have happened again.
Yin Feixue yawned, slinging one arm over Gu Ruhui and the other over Xue Cuo, grinning broadly. “Third and fifth months. There’s plenty of time yet. Come on, let’s find somewhere to cultivate and drink.”
Xue Cuo: “Cultivate and drink?”
Gu Ruhui: “Cultivate, drink. Good.”
Xuan Zhao muttered, “Three days at most before fighting breaks out.”
…
Elsewhere…
The defeated Golden-Body Temple hurried back to their shrine, immediately sending a paper crane to inform South Lord of what had happened.
The reply told them to remain calm, but not to endure too much; if they truly couldn’t bear it, they were free to act as they saw fit.
The deity of the Golden-Body Temple at once assembled troops. Dozens of immortal clouds set off in grand formation towards Qianyun City.
The commotion drew many eyes.
Since the chaos of heaven and earth, since the emergence of the Swallowing Viper, evil gods had revived one after another. Immortal sect cultivators viewed them as remnants of ancient calamity and were desperate to eradicate them. The current righteous god, however, maintained a vague, non-committal stance: neither supportive nor opposed. When someone went to exterminate evil gods, he applauded and saw them off. When a Xianghuo god offered lavish gifts, he accepted them with delight. His motto: never strike a smiling deity.
What schemes lay behind his politeness were not for outsiders to hear.
After the Shiliu God assaulted a righteous temple deity, the other three gathered, cursing furiously. Then, after much railing, the Crow God slammed the table and stood up. “Might as well rebel against him!”
“With the Water Spirit Lord about to be born, how can we let those improperly enthroned evil gods threaten us? And there’s still a whole crowd of human sacrifices in the city. If incense fails… eat them, restore half our strength, and storm the cultivation world!”
The other three gods hesitated. Just then, the temple attendant came in with incense, reporting that an immortal cloud had been spotted three hundred miles outside the city, and the visitors did not seem friendly.
“What do you mean? Are they actually planning to fight us?”
The Crow God gave a cold laugh. “Shiliu only threw around some harsh words. They recruit their followers; we eat ours. Nothing to do with each other. Now they want to slaughter the donkey once the grinding is done. Take it out on us honest tribute-payers!”
Chongming murmured, “If this can be eased, it would be best not to fight.”
“Hmph. Very well. I’ll go have a look.”
The three agreed. The Crow God, though fond of watching others’ misfortunes, was steady in critical moments; in the massacre of Ren Temple, his contributions had been essential.
He transformed into a shadow of crows and flew out of the city. Landing over the sea, the wind whipped back his black cloak, revealing the handsome, clay-like face beneath… beautiful, yet lifeless.
He headed straight towards the immortal clouds. The temple gods came at him aggressively, but they were only at the Spiritual Domain realm, while he was in the Illusory Godly Realm… three major realms higher.
Without a word, he unleashed his killing technique. A storm of crows filled the sky, devouring more than a dozen temple gods at once.
The temple gods, enraged, battled him over the sea. Swords flashed across the heavens, incense-clouds roared skyward.
“They really mean to rebel! Quick, call the South Lord!”
The Crow God meant to slaughter the lot of them when a white cloud drifted in. They were immortal sect disciples, drawn by the spectacle, only to be dragged straight into the battle. By the time they realised, they were already bloodily embroiled.
A temple god crushed a talisman. “No escape now! Use our stipends to hire the brothers from nearby temples. Call them all to Qianyun City!”
An immortal disciple, having suffered heavily, coughed blood and instructed his juniors: “Quick, summon our master!”
The Crow God attacked indiscriminately, whoever came.
…
Outside Qianyun City.
The three sat drinking and discussing the Dao, utterly at leisure.
Yin Feixue was half drunk, warmth rising through his chest. He tugged open his robes, exposing his fluffy chest. Suddenly his belly dipped. Xue Cuo had rolled over with a rumbling sound and dropped onto his stomach, using him as a pillow.
Yin Feixue was outraged. “This king is not someone you can lie on just because you feel like it!”
Xue Cuo couldn’t care less. Face flushed, clutching his wine jug, he leaned towards the properly seated Gu Ruhui.
“Shidi…”
Yin Feixue extended a claw, hooked Xue Cuo’s collar, and glared fiercely. “This king is not someone you can refuse just because you feel like it!”
At that moment.
A burst of magic light exploded from Qianyun City, brilliant and vast, spreading across the sky.
Xue Cuo: “What on earth blew up?”
Gu Ruhui’s gaze sharpened. “Someone’s besieging Qianyun City… and quite a few of them.”
Yin Feixue let out a booming laugh. “How interesting.”
Xue Cuo changed tack at once. “I thought it’d take at least three months, six months at most, to reach this point.”
The other two had thought the same. Their eyes drifted towards Xuan Zhao and Ying Xiao, both drunk senseless and snoring on the ground.
Xue Cuo gave a thumbs up. “Master Xuan is truly extraordinary. Born a walking disaster, and now reincarnated. Every word he utters is golden!”
