Chapter One Hundred Forty-Seven: Presenting the Prince’s Head to the Emperor, Awaiting the Sage Master's Will to Return to the Mortal Realm [Seeking Votes]
As the Second Prince Zhao Pei chose to flee without a moment's hesitation, the question of whether An Le would kill him was no longer up for debate.
An Le definitely possessed the courage to swing his sword at him.
Perhaps one could argue that during their first clash, the only reason he struck without hesitation was because both were geniuses on the Lesser Sage Roll, meaning that even in death, they could use the Lesser Sage Token to resurrect.
Yet, when that first sword fell, the cold, murderous intent in An Le's eyes had been overwhelmingly fierce. Because of this, the Second Prince Zhao Pei dared not take the risk.
Besides, the current situation was far too disadvantageous for him.
Following Li Qingchuan's infusion of vital blood into the Glazed盏 under the demand of the Celestial Master's starlight avatar, reducing him to An Le's Dao-slave, the Second Prince Zhao Pei had lost his ultimate foundation to deal with An Le.
In fact, Li Qingchuan would instead become a weapon in An Le's hands against him.
A ninth-realm cultivator...
The Second Prince Zhao Pei was no monster like An Le, capable of slaying a ninth-realm expert while still in the fifth realm.
Therefore, Zhao Pei began to flee toward Lin'an Prefecture. Only by escaping to Lin'an Prefecture could he find sanctuary under the protection of the Zhao family's Son of Heaven and thus survive.
An Le watched calmly in the direction of Zhao Pei's escape, his expression devoid of any significant emotional fluctuations.
Zhao Pei had attempted to inherit invincible momentum by killing him; since that was the case, he had to bear the risks and consequences of being killed.
This was the basic psychological preparation every cultivator should make once they unleashed murderous intent.
However, An Le did not pursue him immediately. He calmly looked toward the starlight avatar of the Old Celestial Master, raised a hand, and touched the speck of gold sand between his brows.
"How does one cause a thousand-year-old purple-Qi golden lotus seed to bloom?"
An Le asked.
"Nurture it with your mind and spirit, nurture it with innate spiritual energy, nurture it with your own vigor and willpower... When the flower is meant to bloom, it will bloom on its own."
"Of course, if Young Master An has the time, you are also welcome to visit the Celestial Master's Mansion and bathe in its lotus pond. That will naturally cause the purple-Qi golden lotus to bloom much faster."
The Old Celestial Master said gently, his tone exceptionally peaceful.
The Celestial Master's Mansion?
The Celestial Master's Mansion was located on Mount Yunjin, near the Canglang River—a rather delicate location.
Compared to True Martial Temple, situated on Mount Qingcheng in the heart of the Central Plains, the geographical location of the Celestial Master's Mansion actually dictated the difficulties of its development.
The bottom of the Canglang River concealed an unfathomable, massive evil, one that struck terror into the hearts of many cultivators.
The higher one's cultivation realm, the more profound their understanding of the terrifying nature of that great evil. Consequently, Mount Yunjin's proximity to such an entity meant it naturally had to bear considerable risks.
Those seeking the Dao were far more inclined to head toward the more serene True Martial Temple.
"If the opportunity arises, I will certainly pay a visit."
An Le cupped his fists and bowed in return.
Since the Old Celestial Master had shown such immense sincerity, it was naturally impossible for An Le to maintain a stern face. As the saying went, one does not strike a smiling person, and everything the Old Celestial Master had done was inclined toward him, offering him genuine help. It was only right to respond with courtesy.
As for Li Qingchuan's actions, they were ultimately his own personal choices, and he had paid the price for them accordingly.
Enveloped in starlight, the Old Celestial Master's gaze fell upon Zhao Huangting. Watching the old man, he could not help but let out a soft sigh.
"Your life has been utterly exhausted by the fires of nirvana. You are hanging on by merely a single breath; perhaps you will die the moment you reach Lin'an."
The Old Celestial Master's starlight avatar said to Zhao Huangting.
Zhao Huangting, however, remained thoroughly carefree. Beneath his mane of frosty hair and furrowed, deeply lined face, he gave a light chuckle.
"That matters not... To have not died in the Northern Frontier is already a stroke of good fortune."
"I had prepared myself for the worst: marching north to challenge the Yuan-Mongol Emperor, perishing in the Northern Frontier, and having my corpse hung upon the city walls of the Yuan-Mongol capital for all the mortal realm to witness and mock."
"It almost came to pass. But since such a miserable end was ultimately averted, I am already deeply gratified."
"To be able to return to this land of Lin'an where I have lived for five hundred years—that is enough."
The starlight avatar nodded in appreciation. "It is truly a pity that you failed to break through to the tenth realm. The passage of years and time increases the constraints upon mortals, making the difficulty of breaking into the tenth realm greater and greater across heaven and earth... Ah."
Suddenly, he raised his hand, and a palm-sized purple-Qi golden lotus slowly bloomed in his palm.
"This is a hundred-year-old purple-Qi golden lotus, already fully bloomed. Today, I bestow it upon you. It can extend your life by a few days, allowing you to take a proper look at this mortal world once more."
"To accompany those you wish to accompany."
"Consider this another gift from this old Daoist to Young Master An."
The Old Celestial Master's starlight avatar said softly.
With a flick of his finger, the palm-sized purple-Qi golden lotus transformed into a stream of light that darted toward Zhao Huangting, sinking directly between his brows.
It caused his previously ashen complexion, lingering with the aura of death, to gradually recover a hint of healthy rosy color.
Su Muzhe, standing nearby, was pleasantly surprised.
An Le's eyes flickered slightly as he looked at the Old Celestial Master, opening his mouth as if to speak, but hesitating.
The Old Celestial Master seemed to know what An Le wanted to ask. "Young Master An, as far as Zhao Huangting is concerned, there is no longer much difference between a thousand-year-old purple-Qi golden lotus and a hundred-year-old one. His time is up; even the purple-Qi golden lotus cannot alter that limit."
These words instantly dispelled An Le's thoughts. If a thousand-year-old purple-Qi golden lotus could have extended Zhao Huangting's life, that naturally would have been for the best.
The starlight began to slowly recede, and the dark clouds in the sky seemed to roll in once more, obscuring the moonlight and starlight.
As his starlight form verged on disappearance, the Old Celestial Master cast a calm look at An Le.
"Young Master An, this old Daoist shall eagerly anticipate... the day the thousand-year purple-Qi golden lotus blooms."
The ancient Daoist performed a Daoist salute.
An Le clasped his sword and bowed back.
The starlight was like sand slipping between fingers, flowing away in a gust of wind before dissipating without a trace.
The oppressive mental pressure that had permeated heaven and earth finally vanished, plunging the surroundings back into darkness and silence.
Yet, the atmosphere felt somewhat peculiar.
Li Qingchuan had summoned the Old Celestial Master, yet who could have imagined... that he had merely come to deliver gifts.
The instigator, Li Qingchuan, was probably regretting it so deeply his intestines had turned green. After all, by summoning the Old Celestial Master, he had ended up giving himself away to An Le.
An Le hoisted his sword case onto his back, his gaze fixed on the direction where Zhao Pei had vanished, a flash of coldness lingering in his eyes.
Aside him, Li Qingchuan looked at An Le. Once his vital blood had been drawn into the glazed盏 and he became An Le's Dao-slave, Li Qingchuan had resigned himself to his fate.
In truth, through the Old Celestial Master's various actions, he had already understood the Celestial Master's Mansion's stance.
Of course, what shocked Li Qingchuan even more was... did the Old Celestial Master truly believe An Le could reclaim the Central Plains?
That Central Plains, suppressed by the Yuan-Mongol Emperor... could it really be done by An Le before him, someone currently only in the fifth realm?
Yet, upon second thought, the Yuan-Mongol Emperor had already reached the dual tenth realm. If he failed to break through to the eleventh realm, it remained unknown whether the Yuan-Mongol Emperor could live for another five hundred years.
Once the Yuan-Mongol Emperor died, given An Le's daring to slay a ninth-realm expert from the fifth realm, he might truly possess the possibility of reclaiming the Central Plains.
In this world, eras were always succeeding one another generation after generation. Strongmen rose, and strongmen fell, much like the birth, aging, sickness, and death of mortals.
Succession and alternation—the rule of heaven and earth.
This was an era of great transition. The older generation of tenth-realm experts was on the verge of passing away, while the new generation of tenth-realm experts had yet to truly make their mark.
Li Qingchuan could only attribute this to the Old Celestial Master's far-sightedness, betting the future of the Celestial Master's Mansion on him. After all, an aging tenth-realm expert like the Old Celestial Master likely did not have much time left.
The Old Sword Saint of Sword Pool Palace, the Old Master of True Martial Temple, the Old Celestial Master of the Celestial Master's Mansion, the tenth-realm Buddhas and Bodhisattvas of the three Buddhist temples... all of them were reaching the ends of their lifespans.
Yet the true prodigies nurtured by the major factions, those capable of stepping into the tenth realm... had not yet truly broken through.
Until one stepped into the tenth realm, no one dared guarantee they ever would.
The Daoist seed of True Martial Temple, the Little Celestial Master of the Celestial Master's Mansion, the Buddhist sons and itinerant monks of the three Buddhist temples—these new-generation prodigies had not yet truly matured...
This was an era where the old guard was fading before the new could take over.
Even from Li Qingchuan's perspective, the difficulty of birthing powerful experts in heaven and earth was becoming increasingly insurmountable.
Even a genius like Zhao Huangting had found it difficult to break into the tenth realm, ultimately forced to burn away his cultivation in the fires of nirvana to seek one final burst of splendor before his curtain fell.
Could An Le... shoulder the future of the Celestial Master's Mansion?
Li Qingchuan let out a breath, looked at An Le, gathered his thoughts, suppressed the sorrow of being reduced to a Dao-slave, and said subserviently, "Young Master, does the old servant need to go out and capture Zhao Pei back?"
Li Qingchuan's words caused everyone's gazes to instantly land on his face.
Zhao Huangting, Su Muzhe, and Wan Jieliu all wore strange expressions.
He had been traveling alongside Zhao Pei just moments ago, yet in the blink of an eye, he was volunteering to capture him and bring him back.
One had to admit, this old Daoist... adapted to his new role remarkably fast.
Li Qingchuan, however, knew that he had simply accepted his fate. No one knew the fate of a Dao-slave better than he did; his life was controlled by An Le. If An Le died, he died. If An Le grew displeased and simply pinched out the flame of vital blood within the glazed盏, he would perish all the same.
Therefore, he had no choice but to curry favor with An Le.
This was the sorrow of every Dao-slave.
Since An Le held the glazed盏, he was well aware of how profound the constraints of a Dao-slave were, and thus showed no great astonishment at Li Qingchuan's reaction.
After thinking for a moment, he said, "There is no need. Take good care of Senior Zhao; I will hunt down Zhao Pei myself."
"How far is it from here to Lin'an?"
Zhao Huangting, who had once measured the mountains and rivers of the mortal world with his own feet, made a quick calculation and replied, "One thousand eight hundred li."
Hearing this, An Le smiled immediately. "Then I shall hunt him down for one thousand eight hundred li. If Zhao Pei manages to escape into Lin'an Prefecture before I catch him, consider it his fate that he is not meant to die."
"If he cannot, then we shall use his head to celebrate our return to Lin'an, and as a grand gift to present to the Zhao family's Son of Heaven."
Upon hearing this, Li Qingchuan's expression shifted slightly, and a bitter taste immediately welled up at the corners of his mouth.
Was... was this really necessary?
Lin'an was the territory of the Zhao family's Son of Heaven. To kill an imperial prince right outside the capital of the Great Zhao Dynasty just to celebrate...
Was he deliberately making leaving Lin'an alive too troublesome, preferring to be carried out horizontally instead?
The life of a Dao-slave he was living... truly had his head tied to his waistband. The lives of the master and the Dao-slave were bound together; if the master died, the slave died too.
Seeing An Le courting death in such a thrilling manner, Li Qingchuan felt bitter inside.
Naturally, Li Qingchuan knew of the friction between An Le and the Zhao family's Son of Heaven, and he knew this trip to Lin'an would certainly not be peaceful.
Little did he expect that An Le wasn't just avoiding peace—he was actively pouring oil on the fire.
An Le had no intention of explaining himself to Li Qingchuan. After all, very few people currently knew that he had completed the three conditions of the Sage Mountain and earned the qualification to converse with the Sage.
Zhao Huangting was one, the Sixth Mountain Master was another, and Wan Jieliu counted as well.
Others would never guess that An Le had actually accomplished those immensely difficult three conditions, earning the right to converse with the Sage just like the legendary top scholar Li You'an.
Over the years, the cultivators who truly obtained the qualification to converse with the Sage were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.
Glancing at Li Qingchuan, An Le raised a hand and made a beckoning gesture. The bamboo sword Qingshan, which had been protecting Zhao Huangting's surroundings, flew into his hand and was sheathed at his waist.
He nodded slightly to Zhao Huangting and the others, stepped forward, and the innate spiritual energy within his body surged forth.
The illusory figure of the ancient demonic beast, the five-beast deer stance, manifested.
An Le's blood Qi surged through him like a nimble divine deer, measuring the earth with his stride as he sprinted out into the dark night.
……
……
As the Old Celestial Master's starlight avatar departed, the night gradually grew heavy and dark.
King Jiangling hovered in mid-air, his brows tightly furrowed, a heavy look of solemnity hidden deep within his eyes.
He had seen it clearly: the Old Celestial Master had made Li Qingchuan become An Le's Dao-slave... and had even bestowed the Celestial Master's Mansion's final thousand-year purple-Qi golden lotus seed upon An Le.
While turbulent waves crashed in his heart, he also understood the stance of the Celestial Master's Mansion.
However, to him, whether the Celestial Master's Mansion favored Great Zhao, An Le, or the Yuan-Mongol Emperor made little difference.
"A thousand-year-old purple-Qi golden lotus... If I could devour it, combined with my plotting, my chances of breaking through realms would increase drastically!"
A crimson gleam flashed in King Jiangling's eyes, and his scholarly robe seemed to take on a somewhat demonic hue.
"Moreover, there is that 'glazed盏'... truly a marvelous technique. If it could be put to use by me..."
King Jiangling narrowed his eyes, then shook his head. "No, the technique of the glazed盏 alone is not enough; it requires the cultivator to voluntarily surrender their vital blood into the lamp for one to control them..."
"If plunderable vital blood could also be controlled via the glazed盏, that would truly be a formidable technique."
"In comparison, the corpse-puppetry of that Prefecture Master of Hell Mansion is much simpler, more direct, and more brutal... Kill the target, refine them into a corpse puppet, and you retain some of their cultivation insights from life. The corpse puppet can even be utilized by you—one man equals an army. Simply terrifying."
King Jiangling sighed in admiration.
"The evil arts of the Hell Mansion's Prefecture Master violate the natural order and belong to the demonic path. Practicing them causes the primordial spirit to warp and the temperament to drastically change—neither human nor ghost. What kind of formidable technique is that?"
A cold and disdainful voice suddenly rang through the pitch-black night.
King Jiangling's expression changed abruptly.
He saw a streak of sword light suddenly slash out from the darkness, brilliant for a fraction of a second as it seemingly cleaved the void apart.
King Jiangling shifted his form, darting into the distance. The sword qi, piercing the Dipper and growing increasingly majestic, pursued him relentlessly. King Jiangling had no choice but to strike out with a palm to collide with the sword qi.
Blood exploded!
King Jiangling's figure shifted hundreds of li away, stabilizing in mid-air.
The sword qi dissipated. A figure carrying a massive pine-wood sword case, arms crossed over his chest and wearing a cold expression, slowly stepped through the void toward him.
King Jiangling's severed palm dripped with blood, but slowly, out of the blood, a pristine, flawless pale hand condensed.
The Sixth Mountain Master stared coldly at him, raising his chin to point it directly at King Jiangling. "Your aura is wrong."
King Jiangling looked at the Sixth Mountain Master with a cultured and amiable expression, cupping his fists and bowing with a posture lowered to the extreme. "I am Zhao Xi, Prince of Jiangling. Greetings, Sixth Mountain Master. I have long heard of the great reputation of your Red Dust Sword; seeing it today, it is indeed powerful."
Yet the Sixth Mountain Master merely crossed his arms, raised his chin, and looked at him indifferently.
The night wind blew through the mid-air, fluttering their robes.
The atmosphere seemed somewhat awkward. King Jiangling slowly lowered his cupped hands.
"Are you mocking me?"
The Sixth Mountain Master asked.
King Jiangling: "?"
"I just suffered a setback in the Northern Frontier, yet you say I am powerful. I couldn't even defeat the Yuan-Mongol Emperor, and you still say I am powerful?" said the Sixth Mountain Master.
King Jiangling: "..."
"Let me see the true face of someone who mocks me."
The Sixth Mountain Master stared at King Jiangling, his tone icy.
King Jiangling took a deep breath, preparing to say something. He had no desire to fight the Sixth Mountain Master to the death; it was meaningless, and offending someone from the Sage Mountain offered zero benefits.
However, he was given no chance to speak. Cold people never wasted words. The pine-wood sword case opened by an inch, and a sword weapon swept out, transforming into a streak of light that shot furiously toward King Jiangling in the dark.
The dark night seemed illuminated by the sword light, the sword qi resembling a rainbow staining the cosmos!
King Jiangling cursed inwardly. He had only stayed behind to watch a good show, wishing to see what the Old Celestial Master's appearance would actually do to An Le.
He had never expected to become entangled with the Sixth Mountain Master.
Hooking his five fingers, he slapped fiercely at the incoming sword qi, and King Jiangling instantly multiplied into countless bloody phantoms in the air.
The Sixth Mountain Master crossed his arms, slightly lifted his chin, and opened the pine-wood sword case by another inch. Over a dozen swords flew out at high speed, dragging ripples of sword qi and aftershocks through the night sky.
King Jiangling's scholarly expression twisted into something exceedingly ugly.
A flash of crimson crossed his eyes, sharp fangs sprouted, and from both sleeves, a thick spray of blood gushed out like two blood pythons lunging toward the Sixth Mountain Master's swords.
After the blood pythons were shredded into pieces by the sword light,
King Jiangling burst into a streak of bloody light, triggering a sonic boom as he sprinted into the distance—evidently a supreme-grade escape art.
The Sixth Mountain Master did not pursue him, nor did he care to. The swords returned to the pine-wood sword case one after another.
He stared at the thick bloody stench left lingering in the night sky, along with the blood phantoms that had vanished without a trace.
His brows knitted together. "Demonic aura... yet with shadows of the Hell Mansion's evil arts..."
"What is this King Jiangling... plotting in secret?"
"Beneath the prosperous and flourishing facade of the Great Zhao Dynasty, too many monsters lie hidden."
A hint of a sigh crossed the Sixth Mountain Master's cold face.
Then, he looked into the distance—toward An Le's figure pursuing the Second Prince Zhao Pei using the ancient demonic five-beast deer stance.
"The Celestial Master's Mansion also played its hand heavily, nurturing the thousand-year purple-Qi golden lotus with the lingering national fortune of the previous dynasty, plus a ninth-realm Dao-slave... As expected of the shrewd Old Celestial Master. He thinks even higher of An Le than I do... It seems I've been outdone."
The Sixth Mountain Master crossed his arms, a cold and sharp curve playing at the corner of his mouth.
"When the Zhao family's Son of Heaven finds out, he's going to explode with rage."
"The Zhao family's Son of Heaven coveted the thousand-year purple-Qi golden lotus for hundreds of years and never yielded, yet in the end, it fell into the hands of An Le, who ruined his plans."
The Sixth Mountain Master found it rather amusing.
Suddenly, the Sixth Mountain Master's mind stirred. He raised his hand, and a wisp of pure Qi condensed in his palm, transforming into a palm-sized fairy crane that flickered like a firefly in the dark.
Ancient bells seemed to toll as a majestic voice echoed over.
"The First Mountain Master's summon."
The Sixth Mountain Master's gaze turned cold.
"Right on time. I was going to ask why the First Mountain Master promised to go together and offer assistance, only to back out at the end."
With those words, the Sixth Mountain Master crushed the fairy crane.
Instantly, powerful primordial spirit energy gushed forth, merging with the shattered crane.
……
……
Wind rises in the empty mountain at night, all sounds contending in the void.
First Mountain.
Shrouded in mountain mist.
Wind chimes hung before the thatched cottage's doorway, swaying gently with the breeze.
Behind the cottage hung a massive bronze bell. A robust mountain guard swung his fist to strike the ancient bell, sending its peals ringing across the heavens.
The First Mountain Master sat cross-legged beneath the doorway.
Before him, the incense in the burner had burned down to ashes, piled layer upon layer.
As the bell tolled, one glowing fairy crane after another flew in, gathering in the void outside the doorway.
They transformed into five illusory figures.
They were none other than the masters of the other five Sage Mountains.
The First Mountain Master looked at the five arriving mountain masters, a smile unconsciously rising to his face.
"Fellow junior brothers and sisters, summoning you here at the deep of night is because someone has completed the three conditions and earned the qualification to converse with the Sage."
"We should gather together... and invite the Sage's will to return to the mortal realm."
ps: Asking for monthly votes and recommendation votes for support!
(End of chapter)