Half a year had passed, yet Lingzhou Yu remained the only immortal in the eyes of countless mortals.
“You have to understand—he was once the strongest person under heaven!”
On a rooftop, a young man dressed in homespun cloth stood with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes shining with admiration.
Who was Lingzhou Yu?
Beyond the Jade Vault Pavilion stood the Twelve Capitals; within them were one prefecture, two academies, three great houses, and four prominent clans, gathering all the world’s splendor in one place.
Immortal pavilions and jade towers. Gold, silver, and precious jade wherever the eye could see. A paradise of earthly pleasures, a haven for the refined, a graveyard for the wealthy.
He was the “Lingzhou” in “Lingzhou, Wenren, Zhongli, Ji.”
He was the “Yu” in “Yu, Kan, Zhan, Qing,” one of the four famed young prodigies of the cultivation world.
In terms of family standing, he ranked first among the Four Great Clans.
In terms of personal strength, even with hundreds of thousands of prodigies gathered under one roof, he still ranked first.
How glorious was that?
When Lingzhou Yu was born, the Lingzhou clan wasn’t even the foremost of the Four Great Clans—or rather, it had already ceased to be.
The family’s former glory had long since faded. The elders of the main branch still clung stubbornly to what little pride remained, refusing to bow their heads. Day after day, they held themselves to the standards of the “number one clan,” enforcing rules so harsh and antiquated that they were nearly unbearable.
The younger generation, however, had long since resigned themselves to reality.
The family was in decline and could no longer sustain its former prestige. Naturally, it could no longer hold on to those immortal mountains and spiritual veins, and its resources dwindled further and further.
Lingzhou Yu wasn’t even the eldest legitimate grandson of the main branch. He was merely a child of a collateral branch. By the time resources had passed through layer after layer of hands, skimming off whatever profit they could, almost nothing remained by the time it reached him.
Compared with the other immortal clans, which were thriving and flourishing, the difference was stark.
The moment someone was found to possess talent—nothing extraordinary was even required, merely a gift ranking among the upper tiers—the entire clan would immediately pile its resources onto that person, crushing the prodigies of the lesser families beneath them.
And to make matters worse, the Four Great Clans had never lacked for extraordinary talent.
In that generation alone, there were three whose gifts were said to be “unprecedented in a thousand years.”
The eldest was a full one hundred and thirty years older than Lingzhou Yu. He was the legitimate son of the Ji family of Binzhou, named Ji Kan.
At his birth, golden dragons and auspicious clouds had descended over his head, visible from a hundred and eighty cities. The moment he entered the world, his spiritual intelligence awakened. He was solemn and composed even as a boy, and at twenty, he stood in for his father, presiding over the court and governing in his stead, commanding the civil and military officials.
He was the most exalted and precious crown prince of the Ji imperial house.
The youngest was also forty years older than Lingzhou Yu. He ranked last among the three.
He was Wenren Louqing, the legitimate youngest grandson of the Wenren family of Qimu.
He cultivated the Path of All Living Beings. His sword was not famed for its sharpness, nor was it known for its speed. Instead, it was renowned for its weight.
When he brought his sword down, millions of people seemed to strike as one.
And yet, under such circumstances, at the tender age of fifteen, Lingzhou Yu overwhelmed all three and claimed the championship of that year’s Tianbaishui Banquet in a single stroke.
The world was shaken.
Never before had such a thing happened. It was unheard of, unprecedented!
From that moment onward, among the millions of young prodigies across the great immortal provinces, he stood above them all.
That was what it meant to make a name for oneself young.
And his name shook the entire world.
The Lingzhou clan rose with the wind, riding it all the way to the top. From the brink of falling out of the Four Great Clans, it leapt back to first place in a single bound. The one prefecture, two academies, and three great houses could only hide their brilliance before them, while the immortal mountains and spiritual veins they had lost in the past were all reclaimed—and in twice the number.
The clan’s young masters walked with the wind at their backs, haughty and arrogant. Even the slightest scraps that fell through their fingers were opportunities other people could spend a lifetime begging for and never obtain.
It was simply a pity that Heaven was jealous of such talent.
Three years ago, the Extreme Abyss split open.
Countless demons and ghosts crawled out from within and ran rampant across the mortal world. The Immortal Capital fell silent. The one prefecture, two academies, and three great houses shut their gates. The four great clans remained silent as one.
Only Lingzhou Yu, carrying his sword, walked into the Extreme Abyss.
And there, a generation’s greatest prodigy met his end.
“What a tragedy.”
The young man had only just set foot upon the path of cultivation. He was at precisely that age when the world beyond mortal life seemed most dazzling, and Lingzhou Yu was undoubtedly the embodiment of everything young cultivators dreamed of becoming.
In his youth, he had crushed all his peers, standing alone at the summit.
As he grew older, he had risen beyond the mortal realm altogether. Others could only look up at him as they would the sun and moon.
How spirited was such a life?
How proud, how uninhibited, how satisfying!
And as though all that weren’t enough, he had possessed the courage of a hero and the compassion to pity all living beings.
He was simply…
Simply…
Perfect!
Too perfect.
Too enviable!
If only he could meet him once…
Even if it were only to pour a cup of wine before his grave, that alone would be an experience worthy of bringing glory to his ancestors!
The more he thought about it, the hotter his blood ran despite the cold night wind. His chest swelled with heroic fervor, with nowhere for it to go, so he slapped the eaves beneath him.
His companion glanced down at the patches on his own shoes. They had been walking for half a month, and his shoes were nearly worn through.
He asked, bewildered, “But, Big Brother, what does any of this have to do with us crouching on someone else’s roof in the middle of the night?”
The homespun-clad youth folded his arms across his chest. A wooden sword was stuck diagonally across his back.
“Of course it has something to do with it. Young Master Lingzhou is the person I admire most. I must follow his example and uphold justice!”
As he spoke, he clenched a fist against his chest.
“We’ve been following those people from the Demon Realm all this way. They disappeared the moment they entered the town. That proves it—this place must be their secret demonic lair.”
His companion looked around.
He saw an eighty-year-old man selling steamed buns.
A sixty-year-old woman selling shoe insoles.
A thirty-year-old burly man who had drunk himself silly and was now flirting with a brick wall, telling it that its “little face was all red.”
And a ten-year-old child who had failed to finish memorizing his lessons, staring blankly at the moon and contemplating the meaning of life.
“…Isn’t this just some godforsaken border town where even the birds don’t bother to shit?”
There were few people, few houses, and even fewer wages. The only things that cost a fortune were lodging and food.
They had been here for three days, and they were already considering knocking on the tavern’s door to ask whether they needed a waiter who could do somersaults.
“Fool! The more remote this place is, the more it proves that this place—” The youth lowered his voice and spoke one word at a time. “Has! A! Problem!”
His companion looked as though he half understood.
The youth continued, “There must be some earth-shattering secret buried here! Perhaps…”
His eyes suddenly reddened. His voice caught.
“Perhaps… they saw that Young Master Lingzhou had only just died, and that the righteous path was without its greatest champion. Unable to sit still, they’ve come here to plot the overthrow of the entire cultivation world’s righteous path!”
His companion was stunned.
“Big Brother, you’re actually crying?”
The youth slapped the rooftop hard.
“Who can blame me? I am a man of feeling!”
His expression turned solemn.
“Today, I shall vanquish demons and monsters and uphold the righteous path!”
“If I should unfortunately…” He squeezed his eyes shut, two tears rolling down his cheeks. “Tell my mother that I was never a coward!”
His companion was infected by his fervor. He slapped the rooftop as well and declared solemnly, “Good! That’s my Big Brother! You go first today. If the day comes, I’ll… bring two ounces of good wine to visit your grave!”
“Good little brother!”
“Good big brother!”
The two embraced and wept bitterly.
Downstairs, at the only small round table in the house, Shiye silently put the lid back on his wine jar.
The two of them had woken him.
He had originally been planning to throw on his clothes, get up, and have a couple of drinks. Unfortunately, the roof had apparently sprung a leak tonight. Every so often, it shook, sending a shower of dust drifting down, accompanied by the two young men’s impassioned declarations.
The wine Shiye had brought back that afternoon had nearly been turned into thick, lumpy soup if he hadn’t rescued it in time.
“Are they ever coming down?”
A voice arose in his mind.
It sounded very young and not particularly serious, the final syllables always carrying a hint of laughter, as though thoroughly bored.
“They’ve been casing the place for three days. If they keep pacing around on the roof, it’ll collapse. If that happens, they can stay here and patch it up for me.”
Shiye thought about it.
“They should be leaving soon. I saw them watching Wang Er during the day.”
Wang Er was the beggar at the end of the street. He had been there for more than half a year, rain or shine. The ground had been hot enough to fry an egg these past few days, and it still hadn’t driven him away.
His perseverance was remarkable.
These two young men couldn’t possibly keep it up.
Que Feng, however, had no such patience.
“Tianyi. Make them leave.”
Their conversation had taken place entirely within their sea of consciousness. As the original body and the heart demon born from him, communicating was no different from one person turning thoughts over inside his own head. Even someone standing right beside them would hear nothing.
Only that final sentence was sent out through spiritual power.
Tianyi was the Demon Venerable’s foremost deathly loyalist. Upon receiving Que Feng’s command, he answered hoarsely:
“Yes.”
The voice, too, reached only Que Feng—and, naturally, Shiye, who shared the same body.
Suddenly, Shiye’s hands stopped moving.
He tilted the wine jar slightly toward the moonlight.
The surface of what should have been clear, limpid wine was suddenly covered by a layer of murky powder.
He dipped a finger into it and rubbed the substance between his fingertips.
Poison.
And not a particularly sophisticated poison at that.
If he remembered correctly, it was sold right around the corner. Five wen a packet, and very popular. Every household in the neighborhood kept a packet to poison the birds that came into the fields to steal their rice.
Naturally, it worked just as well on people.
Shiye frequented the tavern, and the owner remembered which wine he liked. Every day, he would set aside a jar for him beneath the counter.
Today, one of the waiters had made a mistake. Someone else had bought the wine Shiye usually drank, so this jar had been brought over temporarily and left in its place.
And the two young men had also wandered around the tavern during the day.
Que Feng had noticed it too.
And then he smiled.
His lazy voice was pleasant to the ear.
“Tianyi. Kill them.”
The two youths were still embracing on the rooftop when a gust of cold wind swept over them.
Both felt a chill creep down their backs and across the backs of their heads.
They turned around through tear-blurred eyes.
East, west, north, south.
Above, below.
All around them stood figures in black.
They had appeared without warning, silently surrounding the pair.
“Swish—!”
Dozens of snow-white blades slid from their sheaths, their razor-sharp edges illuminating the two boys’ youthful faces.
“!!!”
The two young men immediately clutched each other even tighter and screamed.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! THE DEMON LORD IS KILLING PEOPLE!!!”
The men in black stared at them impassively and let them scream.
The two youths grew even more terrified.
They were practically screaming their own eardrums to pieces, yet not a single sound escaped the area.
Even the little boy across the street, who was reciting his lessons, didn’t spare them a glance.
In their panic, they accidentally stepped through a roof tile.
A thread of light leaked through.
Relying on the few rudimentary tricks of cultivation he possessed, the older youth barely managed to recognize it.
It was a formation.
Its boundary lines stretched outward, enough to encompass the entire town.
He vaguely remembered hearing someone say that formations covering more than a hundred li required tens of thousands of spirit stones every day just to maintain.
Sure enough!
An earth-shattering conspiracy!
The men in black advanced coldly, one step at a time.
Downstairs, in the house, Que Feng used his divine sense to “scan” Shiye.
“They admire you quite a lot. Aren’t you going to plead for them?”
Shiye was busy brushing the dust out of his hair.
“?”
Que Feng gave a cold snort.
“I knew it. You’re going to plead for some irrelevant strangers again! Even after they poisoned you with this… utterly worthless poison! They wanted you dead, and you still insist on being soft-hearted!”
Shiye had just discovered a smear of dust on his face while touching his cheek and was wondering whether he ought to wash it.
“??”
Que Feng was practically furious enough to bleed.
“You’re the only good person in the world! Pretending to be virtuous all day long. I want to see when those people finally see through your hypocritical true nature!”
He squeezed his eyes shut, his voice dripping with mockery.
“Let them go! No—throw them onto the mountain. Make them build that house. Otherwise… they can die there.”
With that, Que Feng cast a cold glance at Shiye.
“Happy now?”
Shiye:
“…”
Shiye picked up the one wine cup that had miraculously escaped the dust, drained it in a single swallow, and said:
“I’m going to sleep.”