“There is no point in plotting together if our paths diverge.”
The voice echoed. The wind howled and the river ran cold, thick with the lingering chill of winter in springtime. Waves surged ceaselessly, indifferent to the rise and fall of the mundane world, to its joys and sorrows, its partings and reunions.
Above the waters of Ye, a brisk, slightly damp wind blew against the face. Meng Qi, seemingly stunned for a moment, suddenly muttered through clenched teeth:
“Ridiculous! ‘Our paths diverge’—your sister!”
“I’m at least a Juzi of the Mohist school!”
From Qi Zhengyan’s words, Meng Qi clearly sensed the influence of his “revised” Mohist philosophy. Upon hearing the idea of equal opportunity in martial cultivation methods, his mind was flooded with notions like “nine-year compulsory education,” “popularization of top-tier awakening techniques,” “rigorous talent selection through ‘college entrance exams’,” “‘Three Years of Sword and Saber Simulations, Two Years of Real Combat,'” “perpetual participation in ‘college entrance exams’ if one desires,” “promotion for the diligent, demotion for the lazy,” and countless other strange ideas.
Of course, this vision required a powerful “imperial court” standing above aristocratic families and sects, inevitably clashing with them. Yet such conflicts weren’t entirely irreconcilable. Resource limitations and the dangers of advanced techniques had long ensured that martial cultivation beyond the Awakening stage could not be widely disseminated.
“If it’s merely about equal opportunity, that’s manageable. But absolute fairness…” Meng Qi sighed and shook his head. “I hope Senior Brother Qi doesn’t become more radical.”
To Meng Qi, Qi Zhengyan’s “inner demon” was understandable and acceptable. Meng Qi himself harbored no strong resentment toward aristocratic families and sects. If there were no clear right or wrong in their conflict, he would definitely seek reconciliation and, where possible, lean toward Qi’s ideals—but without paying too great a price.
“At heart, I’m ultimately selfish, lacking the heart to embrace all beings under heaven,” Meng Qi joked self-deprecatingly. “This must be what they call the weakness of the petite bourgeoisie.”
From the start until now, Meng Qi’s greatest dream had always been to ride a horse, wield a sword, and live freely, repaying kindness and avenging wrongs. He would help if he happened upon injustice, but deliberately seeking it out might seem too tiresome. Without the looming shadows of ancient powerhouses like A-nan and Thunder God, without the dangers of the cycle of rebirth, would he have developed such courage and determination to face powerful adversaries?
“If I ever gain the power to subdue the Three Realms, I wouldn’t mind pushing for such changes,” Meng Qi said, gazing at the rolling waters of Ye and the place where Qi Zhengyan’s figure had vanished, his thoughts churning.
It was precisely because he had pondered so much just now that he hadn’t tried to stop Qi Zhengyan from leaving.
Regardless of the future, for now at least, he truly couldn’t help Senior Brother Qi push forward such initiatives. When their next mission came, he would discuss feasibility thoroughly with Qi and try to persuade him indirectly.
Splash!
The wind grew stronger, the waves of Ye River rising higher. Meng Qi stood in a daze for a moment before letting out a long sigh, softly reciting:
“The mundane world flows like a tide, people like water—alas, how many return from Jianghu?”
Ten, twenty, or even hundreds of years from now, who among him, Senior Brother Qi, Zhiwei, Xiaochihuo, and others would still remain?
…
Shendu, the pinnacle of worldly splendor, the land where dragons coil and tigers crouch. Walking along its streets often gave one the feeling of being swallowed by the crowd.
Outside the Wangtian Gate, Meng Qi, dressed as a young nobleman in a green robe, slowly entered. His appearance had changed—ordinary and unremarkable, unlike the previous time when he had entered the capital in high spirits after slaying the Wolf King.
Because the Su family was in Shendu, to his enemies, it was his home—the perfect place to “wait” for him. Therefore, it was better to pass by his family’s door without actually entering. After all, he had offended too many factions: the Suyu Sect, the Tianmen Annihilation Sect, the Weeping Elder, the Jiesha Sect, and others.
Even if he wanted to invite experts, set traps, and counterattack enemies, the prerequisite was that his strength must be sufficient to withstand a few breaths of assault. Otherwise, it would be easy for the enemy to turn the tables and eliminate him decisively.
Blending into the crowd entering the city, Meng Qi suddenly looked up at the three characters inscribed above the city gate: “Wangtian Gate.” They exuded a mighty aura, as if swallowing ten thousand miles in a single breath, making every martial artist arriving in Shendu instinctively feel awe.
“Calculating the time, it’s already been over two years since I suddenly left the Su residence…”
…
The Blood Fang Divine Hunter’s Mansion was nestled among lush greenery, pavilions shrouded in misty water, quite poetic and picturesque.
Yuan Lihuo had just finished his shift for the day and returned home, servants bowing and maids greeting him along the way.
His eyes slightly narrowed, his spirit scanning the surroundings. He occasionally nodded in approval, satisfied with the mansion’s security—seemingly relaxed outwardly but tightly guarded within. Even a Zongshi would struggle to infiltrate unnoticed.
Creaking open the study door, his gaze suddenly froze. Beside the chair, by the window, stood a young nobleman in a green robe, his face plain, his smile warm, his posture leisurely, like a host welcoming an honored guest.
Yuan Lihuo was startled inwardly, his aura rising, ready to strike. But at that moment, he saw the nobleman playing with an exquisite ornament—emerald-green, shaped like a droplet, with a gemstone at its center resembling a deep, mysterious eye.
“The Primordial Eye…” Yuan Lihuo immediately relaxed, stepping inside and closing the door, secretly activating protective wards. He felt a wave of nostalgia. The last time they met in Shendu, Su Meng had still been a junior Awakening cultivator. Even though he was first on the Renbang list, their meeting had still been orchestrated by himself, the “Venerable Guangcheng,” leaving Su Meng puzzled. Now, Su Meng could stealthily enter his study unnoticed.
“You’ve heard the news too?” Yuan Lihuo whispered.
“What news?” Meng Qi asked in surprise instead.
Yuan Lihuo looked at him in astonishment: “You didn’t return to Shendu because of the Nine Heavens Ruins?”
“You said what? The Nine Heavens Ruins?” Meng Qi had originally only planned to inquire about Zhao Heng’s mansion, lest the Political Affairs Hall’s surveillance be too intense, inadvertently exposing his identity as the “Primordial Heavenly Venerable.” But Yuan Lihuo had brought unexpected news.
Yuan Lihuo, already feeling isolated and having let slip some information, grew serious: “Recently, a rumor has suddenly spread among the imperial family, top clans, and great experts in Shendu. It claims that Shendu was originally the entrance to the Nine Heavens, which allowed it to accumulate the emperor’s aura and form the auspicious terrain of Nine Dragons Paying Homage to the Sage. Our Six Doors are well-informed, and the Divine Hunters have already caught wind of it.”
“A sudden rumor that the entrance to the Nine Heavens is in Shendu?” Meng Qi echoed, his mind suddenly flashing the mischievous image of Gu Xiaosang’s playful smile.
That rascal must be scheming again.
“According to my investigation,” Yuan Lihuo continued, “a supreme expert from the Southern Wilderness has arrived, named Bai Ning, claiming to be a descendant of the Celestial Emperor, holding half a map to the Nine Heavens entrance, seeking to exchange it for ‘wealth and power.’ He’s openly staying at the Antai Pavilion, seemingly planning to sell it to the highest bidder. Since the imperial family and several top clans each have their own hidden agendas, the situation remains murky and hasn’t yet spread widely.”
Southern Wilderness, an unknown supreme expert in Central Plains, descendant of the Celestial Emperor… Each word that entered Meng Qi’s mind increasingly smelled of Gu Xiaosang’s mischief.
After explaining everything, Yuan Lihuo sighed: “I’ve stagnated at the Sixth Heaven for years. If I don’t find some way to gain an opportunity soon, I might only survive two more missions…”
His implication was clear—he wanted to get involved.
“This matter seems suspicious. Senior, please don’t act rashly. Let’s observe developments first,” Meng Qi advised. “If I decide to intervene, I’ll seek your help.”
Without Gu Xiaosang dangling contracts over his head, Meng Qi had little desire to get involved in this mess.
Yuan Lihuo nodded: “I’ve been a Divine Hunter for many years now. I won’t recklessly fall into traps.”
He then asked, “What brings you to seek me out?”
Meng Qi briefly mentioned his intention to recruit Zhao Heng and inquired about the surveillance on the Imperial Younger Brother’s mansion.
“If it’s Qingyuan, infiltration wouldn’t be difficult. You might find it challenging, but I’ll be on duty at the mansion the day after tomorrow. You can just walk in openly,” Yuan Lihuo said nonchalantly.
Indeed, having someone inside the court made things much easier… Meng Qi didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.
Yuan Lihuo coughed and grew serious again: “But I think he’s unsuitable for joining Xianji.”
“I’d like to hear your reasoning,” Meng Qi frowned.
Yuan Lihuo replied solemnly: “As the Imperial Younger Brother, and given the previous events in Shendu, he’s under close watch by the Political Affairs Hall. He can’t easily leave Shendu, meaning he’ll have no opportunity to enter Biyou Heaven. In that case, what’s the difference between joining or not? I wouldn’t mind having another ally in court, but he wouldn’t gain much benefit. He’d have to rely on me to connect with Xianji for techniques and common exchange items, increasing the risk of exposure.”
He hesitated slightly before continuing: “If possible, persuade him to retreat strategically—abandon the throne of the Imperial Younger Brother, escape the Political Affairs Hall’s gaze. If he can one day achieve the Dao Body, the imperial throne will be his for the taking. But if he fails, what meaning is there in being an emperor tightly controlled by the Political Affairs Hall?”
Meng Qi nodded thoughtfully: “I’ll discuss it with him.”
After leaving the Blood Fang Divine Hunter’s Mansion, Meng Qi once again stepped onto the streets, but the feeling was no longer the same. It seemed as though hidden among the ordinary people were one expert after another!
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