Chapter 152 – The Sword Is Heavy, the Heart Is Steady; The Daoist with Sword Meets the Dragon’s Son

Qi Wuhuo departed the residence of Lord Lingmiao using the Earth Escape technique of the Earth Spirits, reappearing amidst a range of towering mountains. Looking around, he saw jagged peaks rising into the sky, and among them, mountain gods stood watch. It seemed they had all gathered due to the sudden incident concerning the Mountain God of Yujie Mountain. When they saw the young Daoist in blue robes, sword case on his back, stepping forth, their expressions changed drastically. Yet none dared speak more than a word—they merely cupped their hands in salute.

Qi Wuhuo returned the courtesy and left.

Only when the young Daoist had traveled far into the distance did these mountain deities dare to let out the breath they’d been holding. Cold sweat beaded on their foreheads. Though none of them had ever committed dereliction grave enough to attract the wrath of the Northern Pole Exorcism Court, over the course of several centuries, who could truly say they had never erred? Even knowing that such minor misdeeds would not bring punishment from the Northern Pole Exorcism Court—

They still felt dread deep in their hearts, a bone-deep fear.

One of the mountain gods couldn’t help but sigh: “What a murderous aura.”

“He’s a killer bred from the Northern Pole Exorcism Court.”

“I heard he once beheaded an entire mountain’s worth of Earth Deities with a single sword.”

“Eh, when did the Northern Pole Exorcism Court produce such a ruthless young Judge?”

The young Daoist walked to the foot of the mountain and came to a halt. Stretching out his palm, the little medicine spirit still lay there, dozing. As if sensing something, it gave a huge yawn, stretched lazily, and abruptly sat up. While rubbing its eyes and yawning, it babbled something, asking what time it was.

The little creature was always carefree and without worry.

The young Daoist glanced at the sky and replied: “The sun is about to set.”

The little medicine spirit startled awake. “Ah, then I have to go home!”

It patted its own cheeks to rouse itself. The young Daoist crouched down slightly, placing his palm to the ground. The little spirit toddled to the edge of his hand, flipped over, grabbed onto his fingers with its small hands, and lowered itself down. Its tiny feet searched for footing until it touched a small stone, and only then did it relax, climbing down slowly.

Still half-asleep, it yawned while waving goodbye to the young Daoist.

After a moment’s hesitation, the Daoist said: “The mountains might be dangerous these days. Even with the Earth Deities patrolling, demonic miasma and noxious fog can seep in through the tiniest cracks. They can only come deal with it after the fact. Why don’t you come stay at the Daoist temple for now? You could play with Yuntun too.”

The little peacock, Qi Yuntun, nodded repeatedly.

The little medicine spirit thought for a while, then still shook its head. “But I still have to gather my nuts. And the flowers I planted at home are about to bloom. The good leaves I’ve collected over the past year are very comfy too. Plus, I promised the bird who always visits my place that we’d go watch the sunrise together tomorrow morning—I can’t just break a promise like that.”

“I like living in the mountains. I don’t want to leave.”

After answering solemnly, it waved its hand, then leapt into the earth—vanishing from sight.

The little peacock let out a regretful sigh.

It jumped down and scratched at the ground with its claws, even pecked curiously at the soil, but found nothing.

The young Daoist chuckled softly, picked up the little peacock, and placed it on his shoulder. Still puzzled, the little one asked: “A-Qi, A-Qi, where did it go? How come it disappeared the moment it touched the ground?”

The young Daoist replied: “That was the art of Earth Escape.”

“It’s a technique possessed only by earth spirits, one that relies on their command over the earth’s meridian veins.”

“Oh…”

“Can you eat such a technique?”

The young Daoist couldn’t help but laugh. “You silly thing—this is divine power and spellcraft, formless and intangible. Divine abilities and mystical arts—how could they be eaten?”

The little peacock’s eyes sparkled. “So that means no one has ever eaten divine powers or spellcraft?”

“Then I’ll strive to be the first! The first peacock to swallow divine abilities and spells in one gulp!”

Dreaming of grand futures, it puffed up proudly, flapping its wings atop the Daoist’s shoulder.

With head held high and chest thrust out, it proclaimed the nickname Yunqin had once given it—

“Hmph! I am the devourer of all divine arts beneath the heavens—!”

“The Peacock Great Wheel Ming King, Three-Yellow Chicken, Qi Yuntun!”

Even the young Daoist couldn’t help but burst into hearty laughter.

The heaviness in his heart lifted somewhat. With a flick of his finger, he tapped the little peacock’s forehead, then turned and said:

“Let’s head back first—”

“Okay! Home means food!”

They walked along the path together, and when they returned to the city, the two stone statues atop Zhongzhou Prefecture’s city gate—Chaofeng and Jiaotu—greeted the young Daoist happily. Lately, Qi Wuhuo had been residing at the Lianyang Temple within Zhongzhou Prefecture City. Since he often came and went, he’d frequently cross paths with these two.

Chaofeng called out warmly: “Come now, little Daoist. Just in time for sunset—come up and take a look.”

The young Daoist nodded with a gentle smile.

But this time, there was no longer any need for him to press an invisibility seal and sneak up the side stairs in secret. A veil of mist and cloud gathered on its own, shrouding him from sight, while currents of wind surged beneath his feet, lifting his body upward. In the blink of an eye, he had ascended to the highest point of the city tower. Behind him lay the boundless bustle of the mortal world—Zhongzhou Prefecture sprawling beneath him; before him stretched an open expanse, where the great sun sank slowly on the horizon.

“A splendid view indeed.”

Chaofeng puffed up proudly. “Of course it is.”

“Each day the scene is different. Sometimes, when the sunlight is hidden, the clouds turn into a multicolored evening glow. Then the sunset’s rays pierce through the gaps in the clouds, casting beams of light down like pillars across the land—compared to today, those moments are ten times more beautiful!”

“When that day comes, we’ll call for you.”

“You can come watch again then.”

Jiaotu nodded solemnly. “We’ll call you.”

“But next time, we hope your heart is lighter.”

The young Daoist sat cross-legged atop the highest point of the city and was momentarily taken aback. He replied gently, “Is my heart heavy?”

Chaofeng said: “We’ve watched hundreds of people pass through this place over the centuries.”

“Even someone like you—we can tell.”

“The last time you came, your cultivation wasn’t as high as it is now. But your bearing then was like that of a True Person.”

“But now, though your cultivation has grown immensely, your demeanor seems almost like that of a mortal.”

“I’ve heard that a True Person is utterly pure and free from worry. That doesn’t seem to describe you now.”

The young Daoist couldn’t help but laugh. “Utter purity and freedom from worry—that speaks of the ancient True Persons of old. In this age, the so-called realm of ‘True Person’ in cultivation means something quite different. But… it’s true that I am troubled—there are matters for which it’s difficult to make a choice.”

Chaofeng and Jiaotu looked at him curiously.

But the young Daoist did not say more. He merely sat in silence, watching as the setting sun sank lower and lower, the final rays fading in his eyes. Then he turned to the night sky, now pricked with starlight. The Ox Constellation could be seen rising. He wondered—if that young girl were to face such a decision, what would she choose? And if it were Uncle Niu?

The young Daoist lingered in thought for a long time. Night dew dampened his robes before he finally rose and departed. The two guardian beasts, Chaofeng and Jiaotu, watched him with some concern. Across their many centuries, they had seen many fall into such a state. And among those people, the vast majority never found their way back out.

“Do you think he’ll find his way out?”

“…I don’t know.”

Chaofeng grew a little despondent. “Will he still come here to watch the sunset?”

Jiaotu thought for a moment and replied:

“If it’s just his person—then yes, he can.”

Chaofeng insisted: “It’s not enough for the person to come. The heart must come too.”

“A man watches the sunset, and the heart watches the sunset. When watching the sunset, one must look at nothing but the sunset.”

“Only then does it truly count as coming. That’s what I want.”

Jiaotu pondered for a long time before answering:

“I do not know.”

So both of them fell into melancholy, and for a long while, they did not bicker as they usually did.

The young Daoist walked through the streets. This time, he did not return to Lianyang Temple—for there were still matters in his heart he sought to understand. Regarding the matter of the Dragon King of the Jing River, Qi Wuhuo had personally witnessed the exchange between the dragon’s son and the fortune-teller, and thus knew: this entire matter of the rain not falling was the work of that dragon’s son.

Yet in the ruling handed down by the Northern Pole Exorcism Court, the one condemned to be flayed was the Jing River Dragon King.

Was it that the Northern Pole Exorcism Court had failed to investigate?

Or rather—

That Northern Pole Exorcism Court never cared to investigate at all?

What they required was a life—to pay the price for the collapse of order.

As for the hidden truths within, they neither cared nor would they ever trouble themselves to uncover them.

Hidden truths?

Hah—what a joke.

If you hold such a position, then you must bear its burden.

If there has been a failure in your duty, then naturally, it is you who must be held accountable.

This is a simple principle. The Northern Pole Exorcism Court will never concern itself with your reasons.

To hold a position is to perform its responsibilities. If your name bears the title and yet you fail to uphold its duty—whether for personal reasons, unawareness, deception, or any number of excuses—all are but pretexts. You must pay the price. Speak not of sentiment or pity. Because your dereliction has disrupted the natural order, countless lives have perished—

And every single one of them had their own reasons.

You have your sentiment—

We have our principle.

Know this—those seven words, ‘Only by killing, none shall be spared,’ are not mere illusion.

At the foundation of order lies naught but blood and the sharp edge of the blade.

Once those who neglected their duty are executed, the Northern Pole Exorcism Court shall take up the investigation. Should there be any who bewitched, deceived, or schemed from the shadows, they shall be marked as the true instigators.

This Exorcism Court, renowned as the most formidable force within the Celestial Court, is home to warlords so terrifying that even the Heavenly, Earthly, and Waterly Officials of the Three Realms harbor secret dread of them, privately referring to these warriors as slaughter-born demons. These men, like swords drawn forth, shall ascend to the highest heavens or descend to the deepest netherworld without pause, pursuing the guilty in madness and fury. Those who deceive, manipulate, or plot from the shadows shall be cut down beneath their blades, consigned to eternal damnation, never to know rebirth.

The force of their retributive judgment is such that all under heaven tremble in fear.

Should the situation warrant it, even the supreme commander of all these warriors—the Great True Lord Tianpeng of the Battle Division, Supreme Marshal of the Eighty-One Armies of the North Pole and foremost among the Northern Saints—may personally take action. Excepting the Three Pure Ones, even the Four Sovereigns may not emerge unscathed should they face him in combat. He is the most troublesome adversary, even to the Miaole Heavenly Venerable, Grandmaster Xuandu.

He is the foremost War Deity of the Celestial Court, commanding both the Battle Division and the Thunder Division’s Eighty-One Armies.

Within the Thunder Division, he stands as the Supreme Commander.

Without Tianpeng, none may command the Thunder Gods in their rites. Without Tianpeng, no solitary thunder ritual may manifest true effect.

Within the Celestial Court, he bears the title of Sovereign of the Azure Heavens, assisting the Jade Emperor, his rank just beneath the Four Sovereigns.

Within the Battle Division, he is the foremost of the Nine Northern Stars, bearing the honorific: Po Jun – the Star of Broken Armies!

In terms of Daoist lineage, he is the foremost disciple of the Yuqing lineage, titled the True Lord of Longevity and Jade Essence (Yuzhen Shouyuan), Tianpeng.

The Daoist sects revere him as the Heavenly Venerable of Righteous Fruition and Universal Grace.

The Buddhist sects honor him as the Heaven-Guarding Demon-Vanquisher.

Though the Three Pure Ones each differ in disposition, their chief disciples without exception are matchless in all under heaven—some bearing elegance and calm, others possessing boundless mercy, and still others swift and decisive in slaying.

Only such peerless talent is worthy of the title: Founding Disciple of the Dao Ancestor.

Once, when a fellow among the Twelve True Saints of Yuqing transgressed the laws, it was he who, under his master’s command, personally executed that martial brother. Reciting each of his crimes aloud, he employed the Northern Emperor’s True Arts, annihilating both soul and spirit, condemning him to eternal oblivion—thus bearing blood witness to the impartial and unrelenting righteousness of the Northern Pole Exorcism Court. No favoritism was shown even though the sinner hailed from the Yuqing lineage.

And it is precisely because the Northern Pole Exorcism Court holds the highest level of martial strength beneath the Three Pure Ones across the Three Realms—and more fearsome still, this power is ever poised for war and ready to be unleashed upon the world at the Northern Emperor’s command—that they may leave the Heavenly Court at any time to pursue and strike down those in hiding.

Thus was the power to subdue the countless ghosts, deities, and immortals of the Three Realms.

Even the most rebellious of existences would feel their scalp prickle upon hearing of it.

This alone revealed the stance of the Northern Pole Exorcism Court—sharp and unrelenting.

Within the Judge’s Seal granted to Qi Wuhuo, the name of the [Dragon King of the Jing River] had already been inscribed.

That could not be changed.

However, the young Daoist still needed to issue his own judgment. And even if he was merely acting as the temporary Judge of the Five Thunders, it would still be he who wielded the sword in execution. The youth made his way to the headquarters of the Mingzhen Dao Alliance. The members of the alliance were already familiar with this young Daoist, who had taken lodging at the Lianyang Temple, and greeted him with curiosity, wondering what had brought him here so suddenly today. They invited him inside.

Once tea had been served, a middle-aged Daoist arrived in haste. Upon questioning, he finally understood that Qi Wuhuo had come to examine the case records of the calamity in Jinzhou from years past.

“Jinzhou’s records?”

“Weren’t they already reviewed before?”

The middle-aged Daoist was puzzled, but nevertheless retrieved the scrolls. Qiong Yu had already paid the necessary price for Qi Wuhuo’s access—these records were now open to him permanently, and he could consult them at any time. As he unfurled the scroll once more, Qi Wuhuo turned to the very beginning. As expected, he saw what he had seen the last time:

[A blazing force suddenly emerged and swept across all of Jinzhou with unmatched might, scorching the land. Vegetation withered, rivers dried up—thus began the catastrophe.]

The young Daoist’s fingertips brushed over a particular line:

“Vegetation withered, rivers dried up.”

Five characters he had overlooked during his first reading.

“If the rivers dried up, and there was no water for the people to drink, how did they survive?”

The middle-aged Daoist was startled. Then he, too, noticed what was often lost amidst the many noble and tragic tales of the cultivators involved. He said, “That’s… true. If people don’t eat, they can survive for several days. But without water, they’ll die within two.”

“At that time, the disaster had parched a region thousands of li across—Jinzhou had become completely arid.”

“With the heat and scorching sun, not only would there be no water to drink, but even the moisture within a person’s body would be evaporated. All living beings should have perished. Strange… it is strange indeed.”

He began consulting ancient records, and after some time, finally said: “Ah… yes, now I remember—”

“A few days after the disaster, there was a sudden downpour—torrential rains that lasted for days on end.”

“That was what allowed the people of Jinzhou to survive.”

“They barely managed to endure until aid arrived. According to the Dao Alliance’s compiled testimonies, nearly all survivors of that time spoke of those rains. In the days that followed, they developed a deep reverence for the Water Deity.”

“But it is strange. For such blazing fire-poison to have scorched even the rivers of Jinzhou into vapor, even the Water Deities had to flee in haste—yet there was still rainfall? And such torrential rain at that…”

The young Daoist suddenly asked:

“Seven years ago—was there a drought in Central Province (Zhongzhou)?”

The middle-aged Daoist replied instinctively, “No, not exactly. But that year, rainfall in the Central Province was indeed scarce. The water level of the Jing River fell to the lowest in recorded history.”

Then he realized something and exclaimed, “Daoist… are you saying it was the Dragon King of the Jing River who caused the rain?”

“Then he would truly be the greatest benefactor in the matter of Jinzhou’s survival.”

A sudden notion struck him, and he flipped through the records once more. He said: “A few years ago, the records of the Ministry of Revenue stated that within Jinzhou’s territory—an area spanning several thousand li—there were over twelve million registered inhabitants. Including those not officially recorded, the number would only be higher. Our Dao Alliance rescued one hundred fifty thousand who had fallen into the Demon Kingdom.”

“Those confirmed dead numbered over three million. Two million were reported missing, whereabouts unknown. The number of survivors—those barely clinging to life—stood at seven million four hundred thousand.”

“During those three days of rain, the Jing River’s water level fell to the lowest it had been in three centuries, but it saved countless lives.”

“More than seven million, four hundred and thirty thousand.”

“And more beyond number among the beasts and living creatures of the land.”

“Hm? Daoist Master?”

“Daoist Master Qi?”

The middle-aged Daoist felt a surge of awe at the terrifying weight of that number. When he lifted his gaze, he saw the young Daoist lowering his eyes. Even within the Dao Alliance, where he had received and sent off countless figures, he had never seen such an expression—not even from the True Persons.

A heavy stillness, now stirred into waves.

At last, the young Daoist gave his thanks and rose to his feet.

As though standing within the eye of a vortex.

The middle-aged Daoist found himself at a loss for words. Whatever he might say now seemed meaningless. The sun had already risen; the young Daoist walked away, one step at a time. Only now did he understand what it meant to encounter a tribulation. To step into a tribulation was to meet with the greatest of upheavals. Thoughts surged within him as he bore the sword case on his back. Unknowingly, his steps had led him once more to the place where he had once met the elder, Ao Liu.

There still stood the trees by the great bridge and the old chessboard.

Only now, that place was naturally empty.

Qi Wuhuo sat down and unfastened the sword case, setting it to one side. Though the chessboard was no longer there, the flow of Innate Qi coalesced and shifted, naturally forming a transparent board beneath him. Lines crisscrossed as they had in days past. He picked up a chess piece—and only when he placed it in the position once held by the Old Dragon King did he understand why the Dragon-Slaying Game was deemed a riddle for the ages. Now, every move he made diverged from the mindset he once held.

Piece in hand, lost in thought—when suddenly, his spirit stirred with a faint sense of foreboding. He lifted his eyes slightly.

From his ears came the distant sound of lively clamor: “What? The old man’s not here?”

“It’s nearly the year’s end. I’ve already laid out the feast—he’s not come again. Is he here playing chess once more?”

The young Daoist held a piece in his right hand and looked up.

On the bridge, a handsome young man was approaching. He wore splendid garments, with attendants in silk and satin trailing behind—clearly the scion of a wealthy and noble house. Yet his bearing held a hint of arrogance and levity. As his gaze fell upon the old tree, he saw beneath it a blue-robed Daoist sitting calmly, a chess piece in hand, sword case humming faintly at his back, his eyes as placid as the sea of clouds, lowered in quiet thought.

“Dragon Son…”

PS:

Postscript:

Great True Lord Tianpeng, honored as the Universal Benevolence Heavenly Venerable, is the foremost general under the Purple Tenuity Emperor of the Middle Heaven and Northern Pole.

His Daoist title—True Lord of Longevity and Jade Purity of the Northern Pole. Just the characters “Jade Purity(Yuzhen)” alone are enough; nothing more needs be said.

The Purple Tenuity Emperor is, according to the Daozang (Daoist Canon), a manifestation of the Yuqing Yuanshi Heavenly Venerable. Of course, in this novel, we will not adopt the idea of these divine manifestations—otherwise, the heavens would be flooded with emperors, all born of the Three Purities’ transformations. Still, due to this subtle connection, the Great True Lord Tianpeng, head of the Four Saints of the Northern Pole, is thus placed under the sect of Yuqing.