Chapter 158 — Greetings, Judge Qi!

When Yue Shiru saw the young Daoist in a blue robe step into the temple, his expression froze for a moment. What startled him even more was how that youth, with but a single finger, had sent the Refining Yang(Lianyang) Sword—a blade the Pure Yang Patriarch had once described as lacking in foundation yet imbued with an immensely ferocious and murderous aura—back into its sheath.

The sword of Ancestor Lu, even he cannot summon it back?

He stood dazed for a long while before hurriedly returning the greeting, cupping his hands and saying: “Junior disciple Yue Shiru pays respects to True Person Qi.”

“You have returned?”

“Mn.”

Yue Shiru hesitated briefly, but still bowed once more and asked, “Though it may be presumptuous of me as a disciple, I wonder if the True Person has seen that village? What became of it? Was the matter resolved?”

The young Daoist replied gently: “I have already resolved it.”

After a moment’s pause, he added: “Though… it was still not enough.”

Only then did Yue Shiru finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, the young Daoist Mingxin, who had dirtied his face chasing after the Three-Yellow Chicken, looked over curiously and asked: “Eh? Uncle Master Qi, why do you feel so cold? What did you do?”

The youth’s sleeve was steeped in killing intent, as though soaked in water.

He had struck down Hidden-Dragon Guards, cast out Mountain Gods, and placed pieces on the board as if playing a grand game.

Stirring the world.

But at this moment, he simply reached out and rubbed the boy’s head, gently wiping the dirt from his face as he said softly:

“Just a bit of night dew, the chill lingers, that is all.”

“There’s sesame cake, fresh from the oven today—would you like some?”

“Yes!”

The little Daoist Mingxin was carefree and full of delight.

Yue Shiru, however, looked again at the Lianyang Sword, then at the back of the young Daoist’s figure. With awe and admiration in his heart, he murmured: “True Person Qi truly is a transcendent figure…”

“True Person Qi?”

The elder Daoist, who had already been somewhat puzzled before, muttered to himself and then asked aloud.

Yue Shiru then recounted in full detail all the perils he had encountered on his journey: the savage pursuit by a mountain spirit corrupted by demonic qi, and how this very young Daoist had appeared and saved him. Even now, recalling it sent a chill down his spine—the strike of thunder-law from before was unmatched under the heavens. In heartfelt admiration, he said:

“True Person Qi’s methods are profound beyond measure. His Primordial Spirit is vast and mighty, his Primordial Qi pure and refined—all of it, things this disciple has never witnessed before!”

“Without a century or more of arduous cultivation, one could never attain such purity of qi resonance.”

“Even within our Daoist sect, he would be qualified to preside over an entire peak!”

“Fellow Daoist Qi’s Primordial Qi truly is formidable. His mastery over the Three Essences is purer than anything I’ve ever seen.”

The elder Daoist sighed in admiration, then stroked his beard and chuckled:

“Yet you call him ‘True Person’—that, in truth, is a mistake.”

Yue Shiru was puzzled.

The elder turned his gaze toward the nearby youth, who was smiling as he held the Three-Yellow Chicken, while the young Daoist beside him retrieved steaming-hot pastries from his sleeve.

He laughed and replied: “He has only just attained Innate One Qi. I witnessed the moment of his breakthrough with my own eyes.”

“It was not even a month ago.”

Yue Shiru stared blankly at the youth and asked, “…True Person Qi’s appearance—is it not the result of a Daoist method to withdraw one’s Primordial Qi and revert to youth?”

The old Daoist couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that: “Revert to youth, you say?”

“He just passed the New Year not long ago—he’s only sixteen!”

“Still just a boy.”

“!!!”

Yue Shiru’s mouth fell open. The white jade sword pendant in his hand slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground.

His mind went blank, unable to think.

Only after a long while did he murmur like a dream:

“Sixteen…?”

“What was I doing at sixteen? Ah… I was still at the Qi-nourishing stage, learning basic altar rites.”

“Thinking about how to sneak out of morning lessons.”

“And then got dragged back by my teacher to kneel and burn incense in repentance.”

“Ah, sixteen… Innate One Qi… the methods of a True Person…”

Yue Shiru was muttering to himself during meals, still murmuring as he lay in bed, even in sleep, he would suddenly sit bolt upright, clutching his chest in anguish.

“I deserve to die!”

 “Why did I ever skip class?!”

This condition persisted for quite a long time before finally subsiding.

At first, he had believed the young Daoist to be the master of that sword of slaughter, the [Lianyang Sword]—but the young Daoist had denied it.

To prove it, Qi Wuhuo even had Yue Shiru use his own magic treasure to summon the sword once again. 

The blade responded as before—awakened by the call, it shot from its sheath, its cry like a dragon’s roar and a tiger’s bellow.

Yet it immediately abandoned Yue Shiru…

…and turned its killing intent upon Qi Wuhuo. The air quivered with a murderous hatred—deep and bone-chilling.

With a flash of cold light, the sword aimed straight for the center of his brow.

The young Daoist simply raised a hand and caught the blade between two fingers. Sword energy scattered in all directions, only lifting his sleeves in the wind. The blade keened and wailed. Turning to Yue Shiru, who stood dumbstruck, Qi Wuhuo offered an explanation: “Perhaps because there was once a chance to escape the seal, and I happened to be the one who sent it back. So now it holds a grudge?”

As he released his fingers, the sword wailed again.

It hovered in midair, circled several times, then split into afterimages and came slashing down from all directions. But the youth caught each strike with just two fingers. The sword techniques were exquisite, likely the very ones used by Ancestor Lu in his youth—yet they could not breach the young Daoist’s effortless defense.

The more casually he blocked them, the more frenzied the sword became. Its keening grew louder, the momentum ever grander.

In the end, Qi Wuhuo flicked his fingers—

In a single thought, the intent of slaying turned to the will of suppression.

And the sword was sent flying back into its sheath even faster than it had emerged. The seal reasserted itself. Even the sword’s cry sounded stifled, aggrieved.

Only then did it finally quiet down.

Yue Shiru stood there, mouth agape, utterly speechless. Then bowed with heartfelt admiration and exclaimed:

“True Person Qi’s swordsmanship is truly transcendent!”

The young Daoist had originally studied the Hunyuan Sword Canon. At present, his sword techniques—though already commendable—still paled in comparison to the descriptions found in that scripture. Recalling that proud and distant Dao Sovereign, he merely said: “I have yet to even set foot upon the path. At most, what I wield now can be called swordsmanship—but to speak of the [Dao], I am still far from it.”

“This sword was sealed and refined for several centuries, without the nourishment of spiritual energy or the cultivation of Primordial Qi.”

“Though it remains ferocious, it is no longer at its peak.”

“That is the only reason I can withstand it. Were it in its full strength, I would not be able to stop it.”

Qi Wuhuo asked curiously, “What is the origin of this sword?”

Yue Shiru explained: “Our Daoist lineage includes sword cultivators who must seek out spiritual ores and materials to forge their own blades. Only then can one truly achieve sword-intent communion.”

“But this sword was not forged by our Patriarch himself. According to legend, several thousand years ago, an unusual phenomenon appeared. For two months each year, in certain places, if one looked up, they could see two blood-colored rivers flowing across the firmament.”

“There are sword schools that comprehended sword-Daos from this Blood River: understanding slaughter, severing karma, moving in accordance with the will to kill.”

“They regarded it as a grand omen. Then one day, a radiant stream of light cleaved through dusk and dawn, and directly severed that blood-red river that coiled through the stars. The residual brilliance from that stroke lingered across the celestial vault for three full months.”

“After that, the blood-colored river vanished from the sky.”

“A Elder of the Daoist path pursued its traces and discovered that one half of the Blood River had plunged into the Nine Abysses of the mortal world. After much effort, they dredged something out—a sword embryo. But no matter how fierce the flames or how refined the spirit fire, none could temper the blade. No one could commune with it. Yet even wielded crudely, it surpassed ninety percent of all weapons under heaven.”

“Later, the Blood River Sword Sect arose, contending for ownership of this blade. Strife and bloodshed followed. After they secured the sword, even within their sect, conflicts flared without end.”

“In the end, it was because of this sword that the entire Blood River Sect perished.”

“A grand sword sect with tens of thousands of disciples—all gone.”

“When others came to investigate, they found only a collapsed palace soaked in a sea of blood. And that sword, plunged upside down atop the mountain, drank alone from the crimson tide. It is said that over a thousand years of strife, the blood and soul-essence of countless cultivators were poured into it—thus was this sword truly forged.”

“Each time it fell into mortal hands, slaughter followed. Every one of its wielders died a violent death. Cultivators, whose spirits are naturally clear and discerning, gradually avoided it, fearing it more than plague or fire. Eventually, it came into the hands of my Grandmaster and remained there for centuries, only then was the sword’s ancient killing intent slightly quelled.”

“Even so, though my Grandmaster could suppress it, he too suffered frequent backlash from it.”

“To construct the Lianyang Temple, and rename the sword Refining Yang—it was all in hopes of tempering its killing aura through the qi of the Central Plains(Zhongzhou) and the radiance of the Great Sun.”

“Yet none could have foreseen that even after several centuries, the sword’s murderous intent remained undiminished.”

Qi Wuhuo only knew of this sword’s ferocity, yet he had never heard of such a past. He immediately recalled that, in front of that black-robed Great Dao Sovereign, this sword seemed especially obedient—so obedient it was frightening. Could it be that this sword, or rather the Blood River itself, shared some hidden connection with that Great Dao Sovereign in black?

The young Daoist pondered for a moment, then let the thought drift away, not keeping it in his heart.

All remained as before.

Only Yue Shiru, over the past two days, still harbored resentment.

It was, of course, not toward Qi Wuhuo.

Rather, it was toward that Yujie Mountain God from a few days prior. He had already erected a ritual altar in the name of the Daoist Sect, informing the deity that demonic qi was seeping out in that place. As a local Earth Spirit, the god might not interfere with worldly affairs, yet dispersing demonic miasma and banishing baleful qi was inherently one of the duties of the Deities of Heaven and Earth. But that Yujie Mountain God merely accepted his pills, spirit stones, and talismans—then vanished without a trace.

Didn’t even so much as break wind in response.

All he said was: “This god is aware. You may withdraw.”

If not for this, how would they have been so wretched that day? And how could the common people have faced such danger?

Heh, what a fine Mountain God! Most likely, he thought I would die there, and no one would report this matter to higher authorities!

Yue Shiru then gathered the materials for the altar—pure incense and all manner of spirit fruits for offerings—and directly established the ritual altar.

No ceremonial drum was needed.

That was only required for the highest tier of Xuantan rites.

He simply opened the altar to pay respect to the local Earth Deity. His foot traced Yu’s Celestial Steps, his sword raised to the Seven Stars. Fragrant smoke spiraled upward as yellow talismans were burned. He performed the ritual with utmost precision, without a single misstep. This altar required the full alignment of talismans, mudras, celestial seals, incantations, and ritual implements. At the end, he shouted in a solemn voice:

“Heaven and Earth are pure and natural; foul qi is scattered.

In the cavern lies the Mysterious Void, radiant and of the Supreme Origin!”

“Disciple of the Daoist Sect, Yue Shiru, requests an audience with the Earth Deity of this place!”

Spiritual resonance dispersed. The Daoist held his sword with solemnity.

As the waves of spiritual aura flowed, Yue Shiru finally allowed a breath of relief to escape his chest.

Then he heard a soft laugh. The surrounding clouds shifted; the qi of the earth veins rose. It was as if this place no longer belonged to the mortal realm. He beheld wondrous flowers that never withered through the Four Seasons, rare spirit herbs unseen in the Eight Directions, and heard a composed, leisurely voice intone:

“Though this temple is small, my divine power is vast—it can bear the weight of your kneeling.”

“Heaven is high, sun and moon endure—it can bear the honor of your respectful salutation!”

The voice was serene and ethereal—clearly, the one who had appeared was no ordinary Earth Deity. He was, in fact, the chief among the Earth Spirits presiding over a quarter of the one hundred-plus wards of Zhongzhou’s Prefectural City. Such a grand entrance already spoke volumes of his divine status. The clouds swirled as if a true deity from Heaven had descended. Stroking his beard with a sigh, he appeared like a long-lived elder of the mortal realm. Smiling, he asked: “Little Daoist, for what matter do you summon me…”

The aged Earth Deity leaned on his staff. His tone was gentle, touched with a smile.

Three parts kindness, seven parts divine dignity.

Yue Shiru was just about to offer a respectful inquiry when the Earth Deity’s gaze swept across the courtyard—and suddenly froze.

His eyes lifted slightly and fell upon the old tree under which a young Daoist sat calmly, leafing through a Daoist scripture. Nearby, a little Daiost held a small bowl of golden millet and was feeding the chickens. The young Daoist wore a plain blue robe, hair bound with a wooden hairpin. His gaze was tranquil. At his side rested a sword case, and upon a bluestone lay a five-string qin.

The youth lowered his gaze to study the Dao Canon, as though finishing the last passage, just about to lift his eyes.

—!!!

The Earth Deity’s expression froze. In the depths of his heart burst forth a crude expletive, more often used by demonfolk and coarse mortals than divine spirits.

He had just emerged with graceful clouds encircling him—and now, without waiting for the mist to even disperse, he twisted around and dived straight back into the earth.

He had arrived like a dignified deity.

He departed like a fugitive fleeing for his life.

Yue Shiru stood there stunned, eyes wide. Out of sheer instinct he called out: “Earth Deity?!”

That cry startled the old spirit so badly that he lost control of his earth-escaping technique and was forced back into visibility just outside the temple gate. Yue Shiru quickly caught up in a few steps and seized him by the sleeve: “I merely wished to speak of the Yujie Mountain God’s dereliction of duty…”

He shouldn’t have said the name.

The moment he did, the old Earth Spirit nearly felt his scalp go numb!

In a single instant, he mentally reviewed every misdeed he’d committed from the age of three to the present.

He struggled to break free, but his limbs were weak and sore—he couldn’t muster the strength. Tears nearly came to his eyes as he cried out:

“You’re a Daoist Sect disciple! I’ve done you no wrong—why would you bait and hook me like this?!”

“I’ve served two hundred years as an Earth Deity, and I’ve never done any real evil! At most, I sneaked a few sips of Lingmiao Gong’s wine now and then—is that such a crime? I might’ve nibbled some incense offerings too—small faults, small faults! But certainly not enough to deserve this treatment!”

Yue Shiru blinked, puzzled: “I only wished to report the negligence of the Yujie Mountain God and ask the Earth Deity to pass word to the Zhongzhou Spirit Lord, Lingmiao Gong.”

The Earth Deity yanked at his sleeve and hissed in a low, frantic whisper: “There’s no need to report anything!”

“The Yujie Mountain God—and all the other deities of that mountain—have already been cut down in a single sword stroke!”

“Let go! I said let go!”

“An entire mountain’s worth of gods?!”

Yue Shiru was dumbstruck. “Impossible! All slain in one stroke? Who did it?! Speak clearly, Earth Deity…”

“Aaah—damn it, you stubborn ox-nosed Daoist, let me go! Are you playing with me?!”

“Of course it was the Five Thunder Judge of the Central Heaven Northern Pole Exorcism Court! Who else has such a murderous heart?!”

Yue Shiru’s expression changed drastically. “!!!”

“The Five Thunder Judge of the Central Heaven Northern Pole?!”

The wooden gate of Lianyang Temple, which had earlier been left slightly ajar, now slowly swung open. Amid their shouting, a hand pressed gently against the door, pushing it open with calm deliberation. Warm sunlight streamed in. The sleeve of a Daoist robe fell like rippling clouds and flowing water. Yue Shiru, still overwhelmed and confused, turned back and shouted:

“True Person Qi! Come quickly—lend me a hand! I merely wanted to ask the Earth Deity a question, but this matter… this matter is no small affair! Even if I must be rude today—I must get to the bottom of this!”

Before Yue Shiru could finish speaking, his grip loosened. That well-dressed, elderly Earth Deity had already broken free from his grasp.

Yue Shiru turned his head. He saw that the young Daoist still stood there in silence, sleeves hanging gently, and as sunlight fell into his eyes, they were limpid and clear.

The old Earth Deity took only three steps forward, then bowed deeply toward the youth bearing the sword case on his back. His posture was full of reverence, yet his body trembled as he spoke:

“This humble deity is Liu Sheng, Chief Earth Deity of the Seventy-Three Wards of Zhongzhou Prefectural City.”

“I pay respects to the Five Thunder Judge of the Central Heaven Northern Pole—True Person Qi!”