Chapter Ninety-Three: Today, this common man will show you all his wrath [Monthly Ticket Request]

In the third month of spring, ninety days of overcast skies had dragged on without end.

Then a spring rain began to fall through the dusk clouds, giving West Lake a view altogether unlike its clear-day beauty.

At that moment, the rain drifting across the heavens seemed to pause for an instant.

Countless people gazed toward West Lake and saw the endless white jade causeway stretching along its side. Above that long embankment rose a surging white mass, like a colossal white python, faintly bearing the posture of a dragon in the making, roaring toward the mortal world.

Yet even more shocking, even more dazzling, was the streak of brilliant red upon the causeway.

Many scholars and men of letters had gone pale, their faces tinged with fear, as they looked toward the one who had severed the monk’s head with a single sword stroke, then stepped onto a jet-black longsword and soared upward, as though a peerless swordsman were ascending on the wind: the renowned Young Master An.

From the carriage coming to a stop, to the monk descending and unleashing murderous force, to his being slain and decapitated by Anle, everything had happened in the blink of an eye.

The clash between cultivators had been so swift that many had not even reacted, much less seen the details of the exchange.

But one thing was clear to all: Anle had won. With one sword he had taken the monk’s head, and victory was his.

And yet many also thought: this was murder.

Young Master An had killed someone.

For the rising star known throughout the city as Young Master An, many felt admiration and reverence; but once murder was involved, and murder committed so openly before everyone’s eyes, the scholars and literati could not help but feel uneasy.

They knew nothing of vendettas in the martial world. All they knew was that if a man of Anle’s renown killed someone in Lin'an Prefecture, his future might well be ruined.

On the flower boat at the center of West Lake, the immortal maiden Yunrou stood upright with a zither upon her back. She looked toward the battle on the embankment, her heart surging with emotion.

Monk Fkong possessed the cultivation of the fifth body-refinement realm, had grasped a profound intent, and had stepped into the innate stage. His force was reinforced by innate power, his strength unmatched, his aura endless and domineering.

And yet, in a fair duel, he had been slain by Anle.

Having witnessed the battle with her own eyes, Yunrou knew just how overwhelming Anle’s fighting strength truly was: that near-supernatural swordsmanship, combined with the augmentation of his righteous sword qi, and finally that act of plucking the sword as though plucking a qin.

He had seized an instant’s opportunity and, with thunderous skill, expanded that opening into a decisive advantage.

“Killing with music... does Young Master An also understand the way of melody?”

Yunrou’s eyes shone brightly.

As a master of the zither, she naturally saw that the final turning point in Anle’s victory had been the use of his spirit to pluck the sword, causing the Black Pool Sword to sing and transform into a killing wave of sound, like black gunpowder buried in advance suddenly igniting and exploding.

Though Monk Fkong possessed a fifth-realm body, he still could not withstand such a sudden eruption. Thus he suffered three successive bursts, his hand, arm, and half his body all blown apart.

By then the tide had already turned irreversibly. Even with his fifth-realm physique, having half his body destroyed left Monk Fkong’s strength plummeting. Naturally, he was then counter-killed by Anle.

The battle had been too splendid: the contest of techniques, the clash of souls, the concealment of hidden cards, all of it had made hearts thrill with delight.

After killing Monk Fkong in battle, Anle suddenly gave rise to a vast and invincible momentum. A third-realm body-refining elixir core had marched against and slain a fifth-realm innate expert.

What a blazing victory. What a magnificent reversal.

For Anle, who was forging his invincible momentum, this victory would surely bring immense cohesion and elevation to that force.

But what puzzled Yunrou was this:

Stepping upon the Black Pool Sword, riding upward on the wind, holding the bloodstained Blue Mountain Sword, his white robes and wide sleeves billowing as he headed toward the Watching Lake Tower with its six-sided, heavy-eaved pagoda shape, what exactly was Young Master An trying to do?

It was not only her who was puzzled. Many cultivators and many scholars and men of letters who had witnessed the battle upon the embankment were equally bewildered.

Some thought Anle was fleeing to escape punishment. Some believed he was going to surrender himself.

But others felt that murderous intent had gathered about him, and that he meant to continue killing.

Anle still wanted to kill.

Who did he mean to kill?

Was there someone in the Watching Lake Tower whom Anle intended to slay?

The spring rain grew finer and denser, and all of Lin'an seemed to be shrouded in a chill, murderous stillness. Ripples dappled West Lake, and a bloody scent spread outward like a great net, filling this beautiful land.

Anle stood upon the Black Pool Sword and flew straight upward. It was his first time riding a sword. At the Detachment realm, one could already project the mind outward and fly by sword.

But since he had always been within Lin'an Prefecture, he had never tried or practiced this skill before.

Today, having slain Monk Fkong, Anle’s spirit soared, his invincible momentum gathering. His entire state of mind rose to an unprecedented height.

Hair flying, white robes snapping, his handsome and uncanny face met the spring rain head-on. The rolling blood and qi within him evaporated the rain, forming a mist that veiled his whole body.

Anle’s gaze was fixed on the Watching Lake Tower. On its upper floor, he saw a familiar figure leaning against the railing.

Scenes flashed before his eyes one by one.

The first time he had seen Qin Qianqiu, the man had sat high in his carriage, lifting the curtain, his eyes carrying arrogance from above, as if looking down on an ant crawling arduously on the ground yet showing a trace of talent. With contempt and condescension, he had made his invitation.

After that had come Qin Qianqiu’s coercion of Zhu Shan into killing him, forcing Zhu Shan to gamble his life in order to kill Anle, even preparing to trade his own life for Anle’s.

Back then, Qin Qianqiu had still treated Anle as an ant that could be erased with a wave of the hand. Yet because of the rules of the Lin residence, he had been forced to send someone like Zhu Shan to do the killing. Even so, Qin Qianqiu had never taken Anle seriously, believing that under his plan Anle was doomed.

Then came the imperial examinations fraud case, in which Qin Qianqiu wanted Anle utterly disgraced and ruined, with no chance of rising again, turned into a laughingstock of Lin'an Prefecture. In the end, when Anle had fallen to the bottom, he would present a sword at the right moment and end Anle’s life.

But when all of that failed, Qin Qianqiu arranged yet another scheme. This time, he hired a demon-subduing master, a genius fifth-realm demon-subduer.

He wanted to break Anle’s invincible momentum, sever his path to legend, damage his spirit, darken his future, and cast him into utter ruin.

A fifth-realm body-refiner against a third-realm body-refiner. At a glance, it was a sure thing.

Qin Qianqiu truly hated Anle to the bone.

Scene after scene passed before Anle’s eyes as he stepped on the Black Pool Sword, held the Blue Mountain Sword, and had already risen into midair.

At every encounter, if Anle had made the slightest misstep, he would have been hurled into irretrievable ruin, smashed to the bottom of the abyss.

Yet Qin Qianqiu would never pay any price.

Twice is enough. There must not be a third time.

A killer must pay a price.

Without cost, the other side would only grow ever more arrogant, while one’s own spirit would be dusted over with humiliation.

Anle rode his sword above West Lake, the killing intent in his heart gathering little by little. Invincible momentum, righteous sword qi, and murderous intent intertwined, creating gusts that even deflected the spring rain falling from the heights.

Sword qi filled the air as he rose higher and higher. The Blue Mountain Sword in his hand trembled lightly, issuing a deep sword cry unlike the Black Pool Sword’s.

Blue Mountain was a bamboo sword, and its sword voice was deep, like the sound of silk and bamboo instruments. A bamboo sword should have been silent, yet now it trembled and sang, meaning that Blue Mountain had sensed Anle’s state of mind, understood his murderous intent, and so gave voice to it.

Killing intent flowed like a river; Blue Mountain could not hide it.

The Black Pool Sword shook, scattering countless rain pearls, as though it had ripped the rain curtain apart. Anle’s white robes and wide sleeves were filled with spring wind and murderous purpose as he rode the sword past and sped toward the Watching Lake Tower.

Closer and closer, nearer and nearer.

Blue Mountain’s sword tip pointed at Qin Qianqiu, who stood within the tower in utter disbelief.

One flash of sword light, and coldness filled all creation.

The gentleman repays grievance with directness.

Today, he would practice that youthful fierceness.

On the Watching Lake Tower.

Silence reigned.

Qin Qianqiu’s body leaned against the railing, both hands gripping the dark lacquered wooden handrest so tightly that he had left dents in it.

His eyes were full of disbelief, frenzy, and fury.

“Why? Why can’t this kill him?”

“Fkong was a fifth-realm body refiner, born with innate qi, his strength unmatched, his combat power far exceeding that of the third realm. Why did he still lose?”

“Why is this brat’s life so damned hard to take?”

Qin Qianqiu was furious beyond measure. The slanting spring rain drifted in and fell upon the lacquered handrail, soaking it at once. As he slammed it in rage, a hazy mist of water burst upward.

He had stayed in the Watching Lake Tower, choosing the best possible position, precisely to enjoy Anle’s death as if admiring the continuous spring rain over West Lake.

In his view, with the enormous price of one thousand spirit-coins and three demon-spirit pills, the demon-subduer Monk Fkong whom he had invited could not possibly lose.

Monk Fkong was certainly no weakling. He came from the inheritance of the Lotus Blossom Temple and was one of the disciples of the temple’s holy monk, Crossing the Sea. The techniques he practiced were all top-tier, utterly unlike Xi Men Qiu Hua of the Fragrance Viewing Pavilion.

And yet he still lost, and died in an especially miserable fashion—his body blown apart, his corpse left incomplete.

As for using the matter of Anle killing Monk Fkong in the street to make a case out of it...

It was useless.

Setting aside the fact that Monk Fkong himself was not clean, once Anle had gathered invincible momentum, anyone who dared to challenge him had to be prepared to die.

When the legendary top scholar Li You'an once gathered invincible momentum and created his legend, there had also been challengers who refused to accept it, and they too ended up dead.

That battle had killed many who refused to submit.

Only then was Li You'an’s legendary status as top scholar forged.

Thus, it would be very hard to use Monk Fkong’s death to frame Anle.

Moreover, Anle still had the Lin residence behind him. Trying to drag Anle down with such a charge and throw him into prison was basically impossible.

That was why Qin Qianqiu had begun to feel dispirited.

Facing a true prodigy, he felt a profound helplessness. This prodigy had not stood on his side, and he had failed to crush him early. Now he would have to pay a hundred or even a thousand times the price to deal with him.

Suddenly, Qin Qianqiu sensed a sharp edge in the air. His eyes contracted, and when he looked up, he saw the white-robed figure riding a sword straight toward him.

Anle.

He had come.

Sword in hand.

Qin Qianqiu felt a chill run through him, and once again the shadow from that day in the Prime Minister Qin residence, when Anle’s righteous sword qi had cut through his spirit with a single stroke, rose in his heart.

He quickly withdrew his hand and staggered backward from the railing into the tower, his back striking a chair and sending tables and chairs toppling left and right.

Inside the tower, Wang Qinhe’s expression also changed slightly.

His mind had already entered the Detachment realm, so he naturally sensed that murderous intent like a violent storm.

Anle had killed Monk Fkong, and with killing intent suddenly blazing in his heart, he still meant to kill.

The Black Pool Sword carried Anle’s body up to the Watching Lake Tower. His indifferent eyes passed through the railing and saw Qin Qianqiu, who still retained traces of fear.

Anle stepped forward and landed on the tower’s viewing platform. The Black Pool Sword and Blue Mountain Sword both let out soft cries, making the stern chill about Anle even sharper.

Clear footsteps echoed through the quiet floors of the Watching Lake Tower.

His blood and qi circulated, drying the last drops of spring rain from his body. Looking at Qin Qianqiu, Anle said faintly, “Young Master Qin, we meet again. You should know: twice is enough. There must not be a third time.”

“You forced Zhu Shan to kill me, fanned the flames of the imperial examinations fraud case to destroy me, and today you spent a fortune hiring a demon-subduer to ruin me. You targeted me three times. I will return it to you once. Is that acceptable?”

As the words fell, crisp sword qi instantly filled the entire floor of the Watching Lake Tower.

The Black Pool Sword gave a soft cry and became a straight black line.

A clang.

The protective treasure of the Lanke Temple, the Vajra Bell, manifested. Black Pool struck it fiercely. The tremendous force from the sword qi’s point of impact sent Qin Qianqiu crashing backward, smashing hard into a table and chairs.

Qin Qianqiu fell to the ground, fear showing on his face.

Today, Anle truly meant to kill him.

“Young Master An, please calm yourself,” Wang Qinhe said, and had no choice but to step forward with a stiffened scalp. “Please calm down. Qin Qianqiu is the most beloved son of the Prime Minister Qin. He cannot be killed.”

Anle’s white sleeves billowed as he glanced at Wang Qinhe, and he did have some impression of him: the bottom-ranked member of the Little Saint List who had come to challenge him after being surpassed in the rankings.

“So because of his noble birth, he is allowed to strike at me again and again, while I may not retaliate even once?”

“There are countless powerful people in Lin'an Prefecture. If everyone finds me disagreeable and wants to kill me, must I split my head into hundreds of pieces and let them chop at it to their heart’s content?”

Carrying the invincible momentum he had just forged by killing Monk Fkong of the fifth realm, and with righteous sword qi raging through him, Anle’s questioning voice fell like a thunderclap from beyond the clouds, striking Wang Qinhe’s spirit until it trembled and his eardrums throbbed with pain.

Wang Qinhe’s face went white. He opened his mouth but could not produce any words of rebuttal.

“But if you kill Qin Qianqiu, you will certainly incur Prime Minister Qin’s hatred. From then on, you will have no place to stand in Lin'an, nor even in the whole Great Zhao.”

Anle turned to look at Wang Qinhe. “Are you threatening me?”

That invincible momentum pressed down like a mountain. Wang Qinhe only felt unbearably heavy across his shoulders. He raised the Dragon Spine Blade and said sternly, “Not a threat, only advice. You slayed a fifth-realm Monk Fkong today and gathered an invincible momentum that is substantial and solid. In the future you will surely have a vast path ahead. There is no need to bury such a bright future for this.”

Anle shook his head. “Because I have gathered this invincible momentum, I must kill him. He has targeted me again and again, and a knot of frustration has formed in my heart. If this breath is not made smooth, my future path will be hard to walk.”

“Even if killing him brings storm and rain, I will have no regret. Today I weigh not advantage and disadvantage, but only the clearing of my mind. I will follow only the force of my own heart.”

Wang Qinhe’s expression changed dramatically.

So Anle was truly dead set on killing Qin Qianqiu.

Wang Qinhe let out a breath and said gravely, “Young Master An, the one standing behind Young Master Qin is not only Prime Minister Qin, but also the First Prince.”

“If you follow your own spirit today, the ones you offend are Prime Minister Qin and the First Prince.”

Anle shook his head. “Whether Prime Minister Qin or the First Prince, to me they are all floating clouds.”

“The world says that when a common man is enraged, blood spills within five steps.”

“But those who stand high above never believe that a common man dares to be angry.”

“Today, I, this common man, will show you all what anger looks like.”

With those words, Anle raised one finger and tapped.

The Black Pool Sword flashed through the air and, in the sweep of its momentum, slashed toward Qin Qianqiu, who had just struggled up from the ground and was still shrouded in the radiance of the Lanke Temple’s Vajra Bell.

Clang.

Another crisp ring.

The just-risen Qin Qianqiu was once again sent flying, battered and disordered.

“Relax. Anle cannot kill me. That day when Luo Qingchen, with the strength of the sixth realm, raged to such an extent, he still could not break the defense of this Vajra Bell.”

“Soon someone will come to save me.”

Though Qin Qianqiu lay on the ground, he laughed aloud.

Righteous sword qi could indeed cut into his Qin Qianqiu’s spirit, but that was only when he himself was harboring dark and filthy thoughts. Those thoughts had already been cut once. Though he still carried shadows in his heart, he knew that Anle could not possibly kill him in this way.

And with the Lanke Temple’s protective treasure, the Vajra Bell, he might at most be beaten like a turtle by Anle. He would not die. Anle could not kill him.

Wang Qinhe’s face twitched. At a time like this, Qin Qianqiu was still goading Anle.

This young man might not be unable to kill you at all.

That broken bamboo sword in his hand had even chipped his Dragon Spine Blade. Piercing the defense of the Vajra Bell was not impossible either.

Wang Qinhe stepped forward, opened his mouth, and was about to say something else, but Anle simply pointed lightly. Black Pool flashed over. Wang Qinhe’s expression changed, and he swung the Dragon Spine Blade to block.

But the moment he touched Black Pool, enormous force and sword qi poured into his body. Wang Qinhe spat blood and flew sideways, crashing to the ground and rolling several times.

The Dragon Spine Blade slid far away. Wang Qinhe lay on the ground, his eyes vacant.

Had the gap really become this large?

Only a few days ago, he could still hold his blade and fight Anle in a hard battle above West Lake, at least managing to exchange several moves.

Now, a single touch and he was shattered.

This was a prodigy who had forced his way onto the Little Saint List by his own power, and who even sought to gather invincible momentum and walk the road of legend.

At this moment, Wang Qinhe suddenly began to understand where Luo Qingchen’s so-called tofu Dao heart came from.

His mentality really was collapsing.

A tear slid from the corner of Wang Qinhe’s eye. As for Qin Qianqiu’s life or death, he no longer cared. I have already had my mind shattered, and you are still hiding in that turtle shell of a Vajra Bell and provoking the other side.

I, Wang Qinhe, do not have a turtle shell.

Anle held the Blue Mountain Sword and advanced slowly, step by step.

Under his control, the Black Pool Sword continuously struck at Qin Qianqiu, who was hiding within the Vajra Bell, with near-sword qi force.

Clang, clang, clang.

The clear ringing sounded without cease.

Hiding inside the ancient bell, Qin Qianqiu felt terribly miserable. The bell’s vibrations had turned his face deathly pale, and his already reduced spirit, now fallen to the level of fetal breathing, found it increasingly hard to endure.

But he only needed to hold out. Strong experts from the Prime Minister Qin residence would come to save him.

Yet after waiting a very long time, after enduring more than a dozen blows from Anle’s Black Pool Sword, blood already leaking from his nose and mouth, Qin Qianqiu discovered that support from the Prime Minister Qin residence still had not arrived, nor had the spirit of the guardian expert crossed the void to rescue him.

What on earth had happened?

At this very moment.

Above the Prime Minister Qin residence.

An elderly man in plain robes, with white hair and white brows dancing in the spring rain, sat cross-legged in midair holding a bamboo staff. A faint smile rested on his face.

“The little fellow wants to gather invincible momentum and walk the road of legend. Not a trace of frustration may be allowed. Today, then, let us smooth his breath for him,” the old man said with a light laugh.

Within the Prime Minister Qin residence, wave after wave of powerful spirits roiled.

There were roars, there was fury, and the force of their minds surged like ocean waves rising over the sea.

But the old man merely lifted his bamboo staff and swept it before him. It seemed as though a streak of sword qi had descended. All those spirits quieted at once, with many muffled groans.

With a single bamboo staff, he suppressed the many spirit-refining experts of the Prime Minister Qin residence, keeping them from taking even half a step beyond its gates.

The old man stretched and smiled faintly. “A mere Qin Qianqiu, the useless child of Qin Lishi, can hardly draw out any great experts to shelter him. And you lot of crooked melons and split dates still think you can break this old man’s blockade?”

“I am only old, not useless.”

Outside the Watching Lake Tower.

Li You'an, dressed in blue, sat cross-legged in the void. Across his knees lay a blade of starry splendor called Thousandfold. Opposite him floated one spirit after another.

These spirits were all incomparably powerful, each in the seventh realm, all cultivated by officers of the upper and middle ranks and great auxiliary officials.

At this moment, because of Anle’s intent to kill Qin Qianqiu, they had all stepped forward. These were all people of some standing, and after learning that the spirit-refining experts within the Prime Minister Qin residence could not help, they had crossed the void to rescue him.

At such a time, if these civil officials could save Qin Qianqiu, they might win some favor before Prime Minister Qin and ensure smooth paths for their future official careers.

“Gentlemen, stop here. You do not wish to end up like those whose spirits were severed by Li, do you?”

“The youth learned my invincible way, only to be plotted against and left with no smoothness in his spirit. Of course I must help him smooth it out.”

“I, Li You'an, very much hope to see someone become even more legendary than I am.”

Li You'an slowly opened his eyes.

Boundless starlight burst forth, as if night itself had descended in an instant.

A treasured sword condensed of starlight swept across the sky, cutting down the spring rain.

The spirits of the officials all halted.

They had wanted to curry favor before Prime Minister Qin, but they were unwilling to bury the hard-earned spirits they had spent so much effort to condense.

No one had expected Li You'an and Zhao Huangting to be the ones protecting Anle.

They had assumed it would be the Lin residence’s Hua Jiebing; in that case, these officials would not have feared and might even have dared to charge in.

After all, the conflict between the Lin residence and the Prime Minister Qin residence had long been deep-rooted and on the verge of eruption. Its outbreak now was merely a matter of timing.

But Li You'an and Zhao Huangting were both legendary figures.

That made them, by force of habit, shrink back.

Besides, they did not think Anle could kill Qin Qianqiu anyway. At most he would beat him up as Luo Qingchen had done. With the Lanke Temple’s third-grade protective treasure, the Vajra Bell, guarding him, no one below the seventh realm could break Qin Qianqiu’s defense.

Once Prime Minister Qin returned from the palace, this matter would naturally be settled.

Inside the Watching Lake Tower, Qin Qianqiu finally began to panic.

When Anle held the battered bamboo sword that had severed Monk Fkong’s head and pressed it against the Vajra Bell, Qin Qianqiu’s heart suddenly began to pound in disarray.

“Anle, I am the most favored son of Prime Minister Qin. I am a capable subordinate under the First Prince,” Qin Qianqiu said in a low voice.

His voice was weak and carried a trace of fear.

Why was rescue still not coming?

Anle looked at Qin Qianqiu and said, “I have no distinguished identity. I am merely a scholar who wishes to keep his spirit at ease.”

Blue Mountain hummed.

Anle slapped the hilt of Blue Mountain with his palm. The collapsing sword force erupted and slammed hard into the Vajra Bell.

A sharp ring, accompanied by the screech of cutting metal.

Anle’s gaze sharpened. The bold spirit within his heart stirred slightly, and then a surge of heroic force burst from his body, pouring into the heavens in an instant like a clear and brilliant pillar, smashing apart the skyful dusk clouds.

Blue Mountain’s sword intent shot to the stars; the youth’s heroic spirit shook the firmament.

With the blessing of that heroic force, Blue Mountain instantly pierced the Vajra Bell as its qi surged violently.

One sword passed through the ancient bell.

It plunged into Qin Qianqiu, who was hiding inside, and pinned him viciously to the ground.

P.S. Please continue the monthly vote push, and support with your recommendation votes.

Then the scene shifts.

“Brother Shen.”

“Mm.”

As Shen Changqing walked along the road, whenever he met someone familiar, they would greet each other, or nod.

But no matter who it was, no one had much expression on their faces, as though they were indifferent to everything.

To this, Shen Changqing was already used to it.

Because this was the Demon Suppression Bureau, an institution tasked with maintaining the stability of Great Qin, whose main duty was to slay demons, monsters, and uncanny beings, along with a few other side businesses.

It could be said that everyone in the Demon Suppression Bureau had blood on their hands.

When a person has seen too much life and death, many things become indifferent.

When Shen Changqing first arrived in this world, he had not been used to it, but gradually he did.

The Demon Suppression Bureau was large.

Those who could remain in it were either powerful experts or people with the potential to become such experts.

Shen Changqing belonged to the latter.

Within the bureau there were two occupations: one was the guardian officer, the other the demon-cleansing officer.

Anyone entering the Demon Suppression Bureau started at the lowest level as a demon-cleansing officer, then rose step by step, until one day there might be hope of becoming a guardian officer.

Shen Changqing’s former self had been merely an apprentice demon-cleansing officer in the Demon Suppression Bureau, the lowest kind of demon-cleansing officer.

Having inherited those memories, he was very familiar with the bureau’s environment as well.

It did not take long before Shen Changqing stopped before a tower.

Unlike the other places in the Demon Suppression Bureau, which were filled with stern killing intent, this tower stood out like a crane among chickens, bringing a different sort of calm to the blood-soaked bureau.

At this moment the tower doors were open, and people came and went from time to time.

Shen Changqing hesitated only briefly before stepping inside.

Upon entering the tower, the environment changed abruptly.

A scent of ink mixed with a faint trace of blood assailed him, making him instinctively frown, though he soon relaxed again.

The bloody smell on everyone in the Demon Suppression Bureau was almost impossible to wash away.