Suddenly, the young Taoist smiled slightly, and the true Qi around him seemed to tremble like stars following their sovereign or deities paying homage to the heavens. A noble and majestic aura, transcending the mundane, erupted from him powerfully and surged upward.
Meng Qi’s perception shattered instantly. His spiritual sense, mingled with outward-released true Qi, felt as though encountering a tide and had to retreat, no longer able to detect the young Taoist’s Qi flow. He could only rely on visual observation to react.
This retreat was dignified and open, majestic without severity, causing no real harm to Meng Qi’s spirit—it merely shut the “door,” preventing others from peering inside. This indicated the young Taoist bore no hostility.
“The ‘Imperial Jade Records of the Celestial Emperor’ is truly a peerless martial cultivation technique,” Meng Qi couldn’t help but exclaim. For martial artists, encountering a powerful and mysterious cultivation method often stirs an instinctive excitement beyond fear, admiration, or contemplation.
The young Taoist was naturally Qingyu, from the Xuantian Sect’s “Five Directions Celestial Blade” lineage.
Qingyu chuckled lightly, “Can it not dominate the ancient era, forcing many top experts to retreat? Is the Celestial Emperor’s majesty merely a legend? His legacy naturally deserves the title ‘peerless.'”
He readily accepted Meng Qi’s praise without modesty.
Pausing briefly, his thin lips barely moved as he spoke with a half-smile, “Unexpected to see lay devotee Su here as well.”
What did “also” imply? A thought flickered in Meng Qi’s mind, sensing something amiss. Remaining composed, he replied, “If the Taoist senior can come, naturally I can as well.”
Could it be related to the undercurrents in Maoling? Did Qingyu assume they shared the same purpose?
Best to give a vague response and try to extract more information!
This was precisely why Meng Qi chose to appear as Kuang Dao. He wouldn’t need to boast excessively; a single fight would allow someone to recognize his identity, drawing attention and leading to tests, intimidation, and so forth. As the saying goes, “Beat the grass to startle the snake,” thereby saving time, quickly grasping clues, and advancing the matter directly.
A person’s reputation and a tree’s shadow often bring many troubles, but also advantages others cannot imagine.
As for reshaping his image as Kuang Dao, assuming the posture of a martial expert, and enjoying the admiration and respect from the crowd, that was merely an additional benefit. Though it suited Meng Qi’s personal tastes, it wouldn’t affect his judgment or decisions.
Qingyu took a sip from his teacup, stroked the knife resting on the table, and slowly traced his fingers over the stars inlaid on the scabbard, “If that’s the case, we shall have a chance to cross blades. There’s no need to rush.”
With that, he picked up the medium-length blade and rose gracefully, brushing past Meng Qi as he strode toward the staircase.
No chance to extract more words… Meng Qi inwardly grumbled.
As Qingyu was about to descend the stairs, he suddenly paused, turned back, and raised the blade in his hand toward Meng Qi:
This blade is named “Years,” forged by me on the occasion of my adulthood, using ore from the mountains and the first hair of an infant. Though the material isn’t the finest, I valued its symbolism. Modeled after the blade of time, it commemorates the passage of years, taking forty-nine days to complete. I wish to wield it to meet all heroes under heaven.
Meng Qi extended his left hand and patted the sword in his right, as if speaking to himself, “This blade is named ‘Heaven’s Scar,’ to rebel against heaven and leave my mark.”
He didn’t use the name “Heaven’s Wound” intentionally, fearing that someone from the cycle might sense something. After all, this precious blade had been obtained from the Lord of the Sixfold Cycle. It had not yet appeared in the main world, though it could be explained by the vastness of the world and the obscurity of many treasures to most people. Still, caution was necessary. He couldn’t afford to be as careless as when Su Nu Dao’s medicinal residue was exposed in the open scene.
Qingyu was slightly taken aback, then smiled faintly, “Heaven may age, but it does not wound.”
In ancient times, “Heaven” was another name for the Celestial Emperor. Meng Qi’s blade name subtly carried a defiant tone, hence Qingyu’s remark.
Then he turned and walked down the stairs, fully displaying the elegance of a Taoist priest.
Watching Qingyu’s back disappear, Meng Qi curled his lips. He disliked others displaying the very style and posture he admired, then flaunting it in front of him!
When Qingyu turned back to announce his blade’s name earlier, Meng Qi had almost wanted to draw his sword immediately:
Who do you think you are, pretending? Trying to leave a strong impression in my mind to prepare for future confrontations?
Spiritual duels and inner struggles—I’m not unfamiliar with them!
So, I’ll play along with your act, deliberately adding those words “rebelling against heaven” to unsettle your mind and make you rush in battle!
Whether it worked or not, Meng Qi couldn’t guess. After all, he knew too little about Qingyu’s mental cultivation and character flaws. He could only sigh inwardly, “The martial world is perilous indeed!”
A moment’s carelessness could lead to defeat in a spiritual contest!
Of course, he didn’t think Qingyu was despicable or evil. Challenging and engaging in combat was itself a profound art. Such spiritual contests usually only affected a short period. Since Qingyu had indicated a soon-to-come clash, it was natural to begin preparations now, which was perfectly acceptable and courteous. In other words, the duel had already begun.
After his sigh, feeling he had learned something, Meng Qi found a chair to sit on. The fifth floor wasn’t partitioned into private rooms but was fully open like a grand hall, with tables scattered about, yet he was the only guest.
Looking far into the distance, a mighty river flowed outside the city, seemingly coming from the heavens, rushing ceaselessly in a magnificent and lofty scene.
“Kuang Dao versus the Celestial Blade—I eagerly await it,” a voice suddenly spoke beside Meng Qi. Unnoticed, an old man in a plain blue robe and small cap had appeared. His eyebrows and beard were white, his face ancient and simple, holding a purple clay teapot from which tea fragrance drifted gently.
Without turning his head, Meng Qi smiled, “Isn’t creating such opportunities precisely the rule of Heroes’ Pavilion? The Pavilion Master must have seen many fierce battles?”
Combining the secret archives of the Six Gates and the identity that had stealthily entered the fifth floor, Meng Qi deduced the man was the Pavilion Master himself, “Marvelous Sage Recluse” Ren Pingsheng, whose exact strength remained unknown. The Six Gates records merely marked him as “possibly an Outer Scene expert.”
“When one grows old, one must have some amusement. Seeing energetic young people competing fiercely makes me feel youthful again,” Ren Pingsheng didn’t deny it, casually adding, “Now Maoling is turbulent beneath its calm surface. Such contests won’t be rare. It’s said that ‘River of Blade Qi,’ ‘Hundred-Mile Shock,’ ‘Green Lotus Gentleman,’ and ‘Wolf King’ Tie Sheng are all nearing arrival. Even ‘Invisible Sword,’ who hasn’t left Donghai Sword Manor for half a year, has returned to land.”
Meng Qi inhaled deeply. This intelligence was timely, faster than the Six Gates’ reports. Why had Ren Pingsheng told him this?
The undercurrents in Maoling were fiercer than he had imagined!
And what role had Qiu Fei played in the Dongyang Estate?
“Why do so many outstanding talents gather in Maoling?” Meng Qi mused aloud, sipping tea and gazing at the river without turning to look at Ren Pingsheng, fearing he might reveal his thoughts.
Ren Pingsheng chuckled, “Young Master Su, since you’ve come here, how could you not know? Why trouble this old man?”
Seeing that he remained tight-lipped and unable to force him, Meng Qi could only order food and dine. Ren Pingsheng drank a couple more sips of tea and departed on his own.
…
The news of Kuang Dao Su Meng appearing in Maoling and ascending to the fifth floor of Heroes’ Pavilion within twelve moves spread like wildfire through Maoling and its vicinity. Yet Meng Qi himself became low-key, renting a courtyard to secretly monitor Qiu Fei, who resided in the Huazhou Guildhall.
A few days later, he received word that Qiu Fei had finally left the guildhall, heading toward the Number One Casino of Tian.
Meng Qi then used the Eight-Nine Mystical Art to shorten his height slightly, altered his muscle structure, and applied materials that changed his appearance, becoming completely unrecognizable as Kuang Dao Su Meng. He followed Qiu Fei from a street away, resembling a desperate gambler rushing to the casino to recover losses.
He didn’t feel much responsibility for helping the Six Gates solve cases or unravel mysteries, viewing it merely as an opportunity to hone himself.
Since completing the deadly mission, his attitude toward handling affairs had become more proactive and positive. After all, always fighting opponents weaker than oneself or merely sparring wouldn’t suffice. Without trying harder in situations like estates or ruins, progress would be minimal, and improvement impossible. Training diligently alone was like walking on one leg—eventually, it would show disadvantages in the cycle of reincarnation tasks.
This time, in the Dongyang Estate, surrounded by many mysteries and numerous experts ranked higher than himself on the martial ranking, the final potential rewards aside, the experience of sharpening his skills, deduction abilities, and engaging in genuine combat with powerful opponents was a rare opportunity for growth. How could he retreat out of fear of difficulties?
Of course, the prerequisite was Meng Qi’s confidence in his ability to survive. Even if he suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of top-ranking martial experts or was pursued by Qiu Fei, a half-Outer Scene expert, he wouldn’t lose his life.
Surrounded by four streets, the Number One Casino of Tian had a gate on each, symbolizing the inflow of wealth from all directions.
After entering the casino behind Qiu Fei, Meng Qi was immediately startled by the noise inside. Everywhere were shouts of “Six! Six!” “All-Same,” and “Human Tiles,” along with cries of joy or sorrow. Dice, Pai Gow, Mahjong—all gambling forms imaginable were present in Tian’s Number One Casino.
With Meng Qi’s acute hearing, discerning the dice numbers posed no problem. Thus, while playing small bets, he quietly followed Qiu Fei.
Qiu Fei seemed impatient with the hall’s noise and headed directly toward the private rooms.
Meng Qi squeezed through the crowd, unwilling to lose sight of Qiu Fei’s trail but careful not to get too close, considering Qiu Fei was a half-Outer Scene expert!
This was no half-step beast relying purely on instinct from the Journey to the West mission. Qiu Fei possessed techniques, true Qi, and weapons, all skillfully employed. Moreover, he was adept at utilizing his Yuan Shen through the third eye, surpassing Meng Qi’s tracking methods—Shapeshifting Art and Undying Seal Art by an unknown margin, though still inferior to the unique properties of the Outer Scene-level “Heaven-Changing Earth-Shattering Art.”
As Meng Qi followed Qiu Fei slowly through the casino’s chaos and crowd, his spiritual sense suddenly tingled, and a sense of danger arose.
He had no time to draw his blade or sword when his left hand shot downward.
A blue-dyed dagger silently emerged, thrusting upward toward Meng Qi’s lower body—a weak point difficult to fully protect even with the most perfected hardening techniques.
Meng Qi’s left hand blossomed like a flower, radiating profound Chan meaning, and grabbed the dagger. After all, the Undying Seal Art had been with Meng Qi for over a year, and despite focusing on other skills, his hand techniques had still improved.
His palm glowed with dark gold, impervious to the dagger’s strike, caught firmly in his fingers.
Suddenly, the dagger trembled, slipping backward from Meng Qi’s grip. By then, Meng Qi had already shifted direction, tightly gripping “Heaven’s Scar” in his hand.
The dagger vanished into the crowd, leaving no trace. Meng Qi spread his spirit mingled with true Qi, yet everyone around seemed ordinary gamblers—no hostility, no martial prowess detectable.
“What a formidable assassin…” Meng Qi heightened his spiritual alertness. Looking ahead, Qiu Fei’s figure was already gone!
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