Chapter 681: Watching the Fire from the Opposite Shore

Meng Qi held an oiled-paper umbrella, strolling leisurely as if in the rain, walking slowly along the bustling and lively street. Hawkers, vendors, and ordinary pedestrians flowed like waves, some pausing, some moving.

Shen Du had always been famous for having numerous martial experts, so previously, Meng Qi had found nothing unusual about it. However, after hearing Yuan Lihuo mention the secret circulation of the Nine Heavens Ruins legend in Shen Du, his perspective had changed. Now, amidst the crowd, he sensed something different—hidden among the throng seemed to be many powerful individuals, rushing in and out with solemn expressions, the undercurrents surging.

“It’s truly a single stone stirring a thousand layers of ripples…” Meng Qi, feeling relaxed, glanced around with the corner of his eye but did not extend his spiritual sense. Regardless of whether the news of the Nine Heavens Ruins was true or false, or whether there were sinister schemes and conspiracies behind it, he had no intention of getting involved. None of it concerned him unless Gu Xiaosang arrived with a contract demanding cooperation.

Therefore, he now felt the superiority of being an outsider, an observer with clarity, smiling as he watched pedestrians pass him by under the falling rain, raising his oiled-paper umbrella.

Watching the fire from the opposite bank truly felt great!

Raindrops splashed onto the bluestone slabs. Naturally, Meng Qi had no intention of heading to Antai Mansion for the commotion. Instead, he randomly chose an inn and requested a relatively quiet guest room.

It was a secluded courtyard divided into three side rooms to the left, center, and right. As he stepped inside, Meng Qi’s smile deepened.

On a stone bench in the courtyard sat a Daoist priest wearing a wooden hairpin. His face was wrinkle-free, his hair a mix of black and white, his breath long and steady. His eyes were half-closed, seemingly oblivious to Meng Qi’s arrival, absorbed in his Daoist scripture. The falling rain was conveniently blocked by the thick canopy of a large tree.

The right-side room’s window was propped open, revealing a face both charming and stern, with arched eyebrows and a straight, prominent nose. Her beauty was like a painting, her red dress radiant yet not gaudy—clearly a fine martial artist.

Her aura was merely at the Open Heaven level, yet her lowered eyelids seemed to conceal something. She didn’t even glance at Meng Qi, as if she had sensed him beforehand and was unconcerned.

“Indeed, the winds and rains from all directions converge in Shen Du. This small courtyard already hides two experts…” Remaining detached, Meng Qi had no intention of probing their true strength. He walked under the eaves, closed his oiled-paper umbrella, shook off the raindrops, leisurely opened the central room’s door, lit a lamp to illuminate the darkness, and took out his copy of the Dao De Jing to study.

This book was somewhat strange. Since he currently did not fully trust the Six Paths, he had no intention of appraising it for now.

The red-dressed woman and the wooden-hairpin Daoist remained as they were. The courtyard was filled only with the sound of dripping water, creating a quiet and profound atmosphere.

The dim lamp illuminated the book as Meng Qi held the Dao De Jing, swaying his head while reading aloud, completely indifferent to what happened outside the window.

…

The next day, the wind ceased and the rain stopped. The sky cleared, and Meng Qi changed clothes and stepped out of the inn, planning to secretly meet with Su Zi Yue and Gu Changqing.

Crowds bustled along the street as Meng Qi strolled slowly among them, his heart calm, appreciating the tiny bits of beauty and ugliness in the mundane world.

Suddenly, the red-dressed woman from the same courtyard hurried past him, unaware of his presence, turning into a side alley.

A few breaths later, the wooden-hairpin Daoist floated up behind her. Seeing Meng Qi, he smiled and nodded slightly as a greeting before turning onto another road.

“They’re both heading to Antai Mansion.” Meng Qi chuckled slightly and continued straight ahead, heading deeper into the inner city.

As he passed the intersection, the red-dressed woman and the Daoist, now far away, simultaneously turned their heads in the crowd, gazing toward that spot. Both exhaled, seemingly relieved of some suspicion.

Walking in the opposite direction of Antai Mansion, Meng Qi gradually approached Su Mansion. At this moment, his smile deepened because Su Zi Yue had just stepped out of her house, walking briskly. Her looks had matured, her youthful innocence gone, replaced by a mix of liveliness and grace. Her green dress exuded a refreshing charm.

Meng Qi pretended to be a young noble strolling, walking slowly toward Su Zi Yue while secretly activating the Eight-Nine Art, heightening his vigilance.

When they were less than five steps apart, Meng Qi’s spiritual awareness suddenly trembled. He seemed to sense numerous “gazes” falling upon Su Zi Yue and those passing her.

Surveillance… Meng Qi’s expression remained unchanged as he smiled toward a nearby goods stall, allowing Su Zi Yue to pass behind him. The Eight-Nine Metamorphosis, Yuan Shi Golden Lotus, Yu Xu Divine Calculation, and other techniques were all silently activated!

The crowd thinned from near to far, revealing several hazy locations in Meng Qi’s perception.

“One, two…” Meng Qi silently counted. There were approximately four independent observers. Some were highly skilled, making it difficult to discern their exact strength, while others were relatively weaker, their details clearly visible.

Four factions: the Su Nu Sect, the Heaven-Annihilating Gate, the Crying Old Man, and the Jie Sha? Meng Qi sneered inwardly but did not expose them, continuing forward as he left Su Mansion through the left street.

He had no intention of confronting them now. He would wait another two or three years until he reached the Grandmaster level, capable of briefly withstanding a peak-level opponent or enduring a half-step strike. Then, he would ask Abbot Kong Wen and the Heavenly Venerable Lingbao for help to completely eliminate these hidden dangers. Even if sects like the Su Nu Sect and Heaven-Annihilating Gate, with their long histories, were difficult to eradicate, he would still deliver a heavy blow.

Of course, Meng Qi, having passed four tribulations and nearing the Semi-Dharma Body stage, knew clearly that his enemies understood this even better. The longer the delay, the more desperate they would become, determined to eliminate him before he grew stronger. Therefore, Meng Qi believed the next one or two years would still be relatively safe, but after two years, there might be many desperate actions—such as kidnapping loved ones to force him into a solo confrontation.

“I should go to the Six Gates later, send a letter home detailing the enemy’s cruelty, advising them to keep the formation activated at all times and restrict my younger sister’s outings. Then, I’ll ask Uncle Wang and others to help watch over them…” Meng Qi had already made his decision.

Shen Du itself was a difficult place for “crimes,” and with such preparations, he felt confident in their safety.

In principle, it was impossible to remain a thief forever without being caught, and such high vigilance was difficult to sustain long-term. However, Meng Qi didn’t need the Su family to maintain it for long—maximum three years.

This was the confidence of the world-famous “Crazy Saber”!

After finishing all this, Meng Qi returned to the inn as night fell. He lit a lamp again to read, studying the Dao De Jing, pondering its unusual nature.

At the same time, he sighed inwardly. The “Regret at the Mysterious Gate” was truly troublesome. His master had been inside the Sarira Pagoda for quite some time without showing any sign of rebirth through Nirvana, preventing Meng Qi from taking him to experience the Buddha’s Palm. As for his younger apprentice brother, his aura remained deeply hidden, still in a deep sleep. However, his face was rosy, his flesh nurturing terrifying power. According to Abbot Kong Wen, his younger brother’s state resembled the content of the Great Dream True Classic. Yet Meng Qi, always focused and never having read the Great Dream True Classic himself, speculated that it might be the result of comprehending the general principles of the Buddha’s Palm.

As the night deepened, the Daoist with the wooden hairpin, holding a pot of wine, slowly entered the courtyard. He looked up at Meng Qi’s reading silhouette reflected on the window paper, smiled slightly, and returned to his room.

As the night grew darker, Meng Qi finally put away the Dao De Jing, which revealed nothing unusual, and extinguished the lamp.

“The night is deep and quiet—mind the fire…” As the night watchman passed by, the red-clothed woman drifted into the courtyard, displaying only the Open Heaven level, since the Shen Du Formation monitored significant movements.

She cautiously looked up toward the left room, seeing the Daoist pouring himself wine. Her gaze darkened slightly.

She casually glanced at the central room, noticing the extinguished lamp and the dark room. The young man in green seemed to have already gone to sleep.

Taking a deep breath, the red-clothed woman quietly returned to her room.

Meng Qi stood by the window, hidden in the darkness of the room, smiling as he watched their actions, his heart calm and undisturbed.

…

Another day passed, and at the residence of the Imperial Younger Brother.

Zhao Heng finished his cultivation for the day and slightly acknowledged Yuan Lihuo, the “Blood Fang Divine Catcher” secretly protecting him, before returning to his room.

He closed the door behind him, and the protective barrier automatically activated, cutting off the connection between inside and outside.

Only at this moment did Zhao Heng finally exhale deeply. Although the entire residence was vast, only this small room gave him a sense of true security and belonging, free from prying eyes.

—Even an imperial prince deserved privacy. During intimate moments, only eunuchs would be present, so the Political Affairs Hall silently approved Zhao Heng’s room being shielded from surveillance.

Just as he relaxed, Zhao Heng suddenly felt a sharp tension in his heart, as if a thorn were piercing his back. He abruptly turned around, only to see a mysterious figure sitting opposite him at the table. The figure wore a wide black robe, a mask resembling “Primordial Heavenly Venerable” from a play, and was idly playing with an emerald-green ornament embedded with a gemstone of chaotic, profound darkness.

“Primordial Heavenly Venerable? Are you from the Immortal Trace?” Zhao Heng quickly calmed himself.

Meng Qi chuckled, “Exactly.”

Zhao Heng’s mind raced, estimating the other’s strength. How could this person have entered his room so stealthily under the Political Affairs Hall’s strict surveillance?

“What brings you here?” Zhao Heng remained outwardly calm.

“You, Prince Wei, are in a difficult position, isolated and weak. Surely, you must often need external assistance?” Meng Qi rarely conversed with companions under another identity, finding it somewhat novel.

Zhao Heng’s expression slightly changed, then returned to normal. He smiled and sat down opposite Meng Qi: “Do you wish to recruit me into the Immortal Trace?”

“Of course. Once you join, you’ll gain access to title-based cultivation methods, purchase discounted pills and artifacts, use the Six Paths’ exchange abilities, and trade items and intelligence with companions across the land—for example, the Cycle Talisman. In return, you need only complete one Immortal Trace task annually, without harming your family or those you care about. Even if other members have tasks targeting the Zhao family, we’ll inform you in advance…” Meng Qi briefly explained the benefits and obligations.

Zhao Heng listened seriously, pondering deeply but giving no immediate reply.

Meng Qi continued, “All this requires a certain degree of freedom. We hope you’ll feign retreat, temporarily renouncing the title of Imperial Younger Brother. In the future, if an opportunity arises, we’ll fully support your ascension to the throne.”

Zhao Heng remained silent for a while before slowly exhaling: “I cultivate a new version of the Shocking World Book, integrating human Dao techniques. The higher my status, the faster my cultivation. Without the title of Imperial Younger Brother, my progress will slow, and I’ll eventually perish in the cycle. Only by ascending the throne and becoming the Supreme of the Human Dao can I immediately break through my current limitations…”

Provided he had items like the True Emperor’s Seal to aid his cultivation.

Zhao Heng’s meaning was clear—he would not abandon his current position, no matter how difficult the circumstances.

Meng Qi looked at him as if seeing him anew. He had always known Zhao Lao Wu harbored ambitions, but he hadn’t expected such determination.

Was there always a side to every companion that he didn’t know?

He sighed, “Do you understand how much support you’re rejecting?”

Zhao Heng smiled confidently, “Does the Immortal Trace have external members? I already have my own cultivation method and don’t need a title. I only require the ability to exchange items, etc. Although I can’t complete tasks, I can still assist from within the court.”

Meng Qi thought for a moment and replied calmly, “That can be arranged.”

…

Returning to the courtyard, the wind was strong and the rain light. Meng Qi sat motionless by the window, lost in thought. The Daoist with the wooden hairpin and the red-clothed woman had not yet returned.

Gradually, the night deepened and silence fell. Suddenly, a figure fell into the courtyard, crashing into Meng Qi’s room. The red-clothed woman’s face was pale as she urgently said, “I’m Sun Yuexiu from the Jade Moon Sword Sect. I need immediate healing. Help me remove the bloodstains outside. I’ll reward you handsomely tomorrow!”