Chapter Sixty-Two: The Grand Ceremony

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In a fleeting glance back, she was startled to see Yi Qingchen’s fair shoulder stained red. The chained curved blade had embedded itself into her collarbone, while the other end was gripped tightly in the hands of the Blood Gentleman.

Suhe moved with lightning speed, reaching her before she hit the ground and pulling her to safety. He then swung his sword to slash at the chain. Instantly, the Blood Gentleman flicked his wrist, recalling the chained blade to his side. With another twist, it shot straight toward Ming Yi.

Ming Yi, who had been about to rush forward to save someone, was forced to backflip out of the way as the chain blade came at him unexpectedly. The moment he landed, he struck out with his sword at the Blood Gentleman, and in a blink, nine flashes of sword light appeared, each five inches apart, all aiming at the seven vital points of the water python.

Seeing that Ming Yi had seen through the secret, the Blood Gentleman raised his palm to block the flurry of sword attacks, and at the same time, urged the water python beneath his feet to open its mouth and spit out several rows of flying knives.

Ming Yi found himself unable to press the attack and was forced to draw back, using his long sword to deflect most of the flying knives with a ringing clang. After dodging the three that came directly at his face, he seized the opportunity to leap up and strike fiercely at the Blood Gentleman.

Meanwhile, Suhe staunched Yi Qingchen’s bleeding and carried her to the shore, sitting her down against a large tree. He took a pill from his sleeve and handed it to her. Some things, as a man, he could not do too delicately. He said, “Rest here. I’ll go help Brother Ming Yi.”

Yi Qingchen looked at the pill in her palm, her cheeks instantly flushing. She pinched it up, turned her face away, and swallowed it under the cover of her sleeve. Only then did she turn back and say, “Be careful. That curved blade is no ordinary weapon.” She dared not say more, lest her true feelings be revealed.

“Understood,” Suhe replied with a nod, then turned and joined Ming Yi in battling the Blood Gentleman.

Yi Qingchen beckoned, barely managing to retrieve the Four Symbols Pipa. Leaning against the tree, she glanced at her wound and let out a soft sigh. Even with the aid of medicine, half her body was numb. She could not muster the slightest strength.

Watching the increasingly intense battle, she could only hope both of them would emerge unscathed. Her gaze then drifted to the lake, now boiling like a cauldron, and her worry for Wu Lei beneath the water grew.

Yi Qingchen was anxious, but so was the Blood Gentleman. He wanted to end the fight quickly and claim his “supplement” while it was still fresh. If he waited too long and the target died, the effect would surely be diminished. So he too was in a hurry.

Suhe and Ming Yi were in equal haste, the difference being that one was desperate to kill, while the other two were desperate to save. Yet their opponent was formidable.

The Blood Gentleman was powerful, but could not leave the lake. Only by riding the water python could he move ten yards from the shore. Any further, and he would suffer the backlash of the restriction laid by Bu Feng years ago.

Several times, Suhe wanted to finish the fight quickly, but Ming Yi stopped him, for Wu Lei was still in the lake. If pressed too hard, they feared the Blood Gentleman would destroy everything in a desperate last stand. That was a risk they could not afford. As for Wu Lei being submerged—so long as he was alive, there was still hope.

Immortals are so called because they possess qualities beyond the mortal realm, even if they are still young. Indeed, after Wu Lei sank to the bottom, his breathing automatically entered a dormant state, and a faint red glow enveloped him, forming a translucent sphere that protected him within. Had it been an ordinary person, they would already be at the gates of the underworld by now.

As this struggle continued, time seemed to flow like the passing of sun and moon. In the blink of an eye, the day of the grand ceremony arrived. Yet the main figure had still not appeared. Not only was the protagonist absent, but even Bu Feng, the master of the house, was nowhere to be seen, as were some others who were wary of Lord Qi Sheng or the high-flying Bai Li Suhe.

Not a single one of them appeared.

Soon, some of the guests grew restless. Someone grabbed a disciple of the Gate of No Life, lifting him three feet off the ground, and roared menacingly, “Speak! Where is Old Bu Feng hiding? Is he planning for the Gate of No Life to keep the Emperor’s Stone for themselves by delaying his appearance?”

There was something meaningful in his words.

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Let’s ask: there is only one Emperor’s Stone. How could the Gate of No Life keep it for themselves? Yet, people's hearts are easily swayed. Once one person voices suspicion, others soon forget their own boundaries. In no time, a crowd surrounded the disciple, throwing him to the ground and trampling him underfoot.

Many others nearby watched, but pretended not to see. Zhang San pulled Wang Wu aside, Li Si chatted intimately with Wang Ermazi. Even when the disciples of the Gate of No Life outside the hall loudly welcomed the head of the Spring and Autumn Ink Sect, none of the crowd showed any restraint.

Qiu Shui Wuhen stepped over the threshold and frowned at the scene. Shi Duanchang saw this and immediately channeled his true essence to his feet. In the next instant, those troublemakers beating the disciple collapsed, spitting blood, revealing the bruised and battered disciple beneath.

In that moment, an uncanny silence fell over the grand hall.

Zi Wuyi stepped forward to help the disciple up. “Are you alright, young man?”

“Thank you, immortal master, I… I’m fine.” Yet despite his words, his sharp intake of breath betrayed his pain.

“Where is your sect leader?” Zi Wuyi looked around the hall. On such an important day, how could Bu Feng not appear to preside? Nor were any other leaders of the Gate of No Life present. Could something have happened to the sect?

He turned his gaze to Shi Duanchang and Qiu Shui Wuhen.

Qiu Shui Wuhen was about to speak when a herald’s voice rang out behind them: “The Soul Command Gate, sect master arriving!”

Qiu Shui Wuhen turned and exchanged courtesies with Xing Yanzong, who, after the formalities, gestured for Qiu Shui Wuhen to enter first. Following behind, he remarked, “I thought I would be the first, but it seems Brother Qiu Shui arrived even earlier.”

“Not so. I’m not the first either. I just witnessed quite a spectacle. Would you like to arbitrate, Brother Xing?”

As soon as he finished, the battered disciple led them to their seats. By chance, the Spring and Autumn Ink Sect’s seats were next to those of the Soul Command Gate. Across from them sat Poison Thousand Hands of the Poison Sect and Old Angler of the Medicine Sect. The former’s sect master was always elusive, the latter preferred tending flowers and herbs. This time, both sent disciples in their stead.

In truth, medicine and poison are closely linked. The two sects seated together made for quite a pairing.

Xing Yanzong accepted the tea offered by the Gate of No Life, lifted the lid, and gently blew on it. “Oh?”

Qiu Shui Wuhen called the battered disciple over, told him not to be nervous, and to answer truthfully.

Xing Yanzong glanced at Qiu Shui Wuhen, then took a sip of tea and asked the disciple, “What is your name?”

The disciple, a bit nervous, looked to Qiu Shui Wuhen, who nodded.

He finally answered, “Mu Yan.”

“Why are only you disciples here? Where is Brother Bu Feng?”

Mu Yan was about to reply when Poison Thousand Hands interjected, “Don’t you know, Sect Master Xing? Sect Master Bu Feng is very busy these days.”

Xing Yanzong frowned, then smiled. “Oh? What do you mean by that?”

Glancing over the crowd in and outside the hall, Poison Thousand Hands sneered, “Who here hasn’t traveled a thousand miles to be part of this? But has anyone seen Bu Feng? Ask this kid—they say the kid ran off and the old man is out looking for him. Is that a story to fob us off with? Tell me, doesn’t he deserve a beating?” He turned to Old Angler. “Don’t you agree, old ghost?”

Old Angler ignored him and continued sipping tea.

Receiving no support, Poison Thousand Hands sullenly picked up his cup to mask his embarrassment.

Mu Yan immediately looked up to protest, “That’s not true! I didn’t lie. The sect leader, the sect leader—”

“Oh? If not, then why don’t you finish your story? Speak up, let everyone hear it.” Poison Thousand Hands pressed him, eyes fierce and intimidating.

He had originally accompanied Hu Xihe to hunt criminals, only to be summoned back halfway for this mess. Not only was the Emperor’s Stone now beyond his reach, but he’d been left here drinking endless tea. Just thinking about it made him fume.

“I…”

“What, ‘I’? I don’t have that much patience. Do any of you?”

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“That’s right. We may not be from great sects, but we are still guests. Your Gate of No Life may be powerful, but you can’t treat people like dirt, can you?”

“Well said. Even a small temple is still a temple. Since we came with sincerity, now that your young master and sect leader are both missing, does that mean you look down on us, or is there something shameful you’re hiding?”

“Shut up, you… you… you’re slandering us! I… I…” Mu Yan rushed forward to argue, but fear choked his words, leaving him speechless. This only fueled further jeers and shouts from the crowd, some even calling for violence, their words growing ever more vile.

Xing Yanzong suddenly closed his teacup with a clatter. At once, those hecklers paled and slunk back to their seats, trembling.

He lowered his gaze. “Mu Yan, you may speak.”

Mu Yan gratefully bowed to Xing Yanzong, Qiu Shui Wuhen, and the others, then mustered his courage. “The young master was mischievous and ran into the Forbidden Mountain this morning. The sect leader… the sect leader and the masters all went to look for him. They’ll be back as soon as they find him. Immortal masters, you won’t be kept waiting long.”

He finished, sneaking a glance at the crowd, cold sweat soaking through to his bones. Though his heart was in turmoil, he forced himself to appear calm. He had followed all the sect leader’s instructions, yet if the sect leader didn’t return soon, he truly didn’t know what to do.

Xing Yanzong fell silent for a moment, then asked, “Is this the Forbidden Mountain where the Blood Gentleman is sealed?”

Mu Yan let out a sigh of relief and nodded quickly. “Yes, Sect Master Xing, you know of it?”

“Yes.” Xing Yanzong straightened his robes and looked to Qiu Shui Wuhen. “Not only I know, but so does Sect Master Qiu Shui.” Suddenly, as if recalling something, he looked around with a trace of surprise. “Back then, Sect Master Bu Feng fought the Blood Gentleman for seven days—everyone in the world knows this. Why, then, does no one here remember?”

Qiu Shui Wuhen lifted his teacup, cracked the lid, and took in the fragrance, then remarked, “Perhaps everyone is simply so delighted that Bu Feng fathered a child in his old age that they forgot.” He glanced at Poison Thousand Hands. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Poison Thousand Hands flushed with embarrassment, cursing Qiu Shui Wuhen and Xing Yanzong’s relatives in his mind. Yet however bitter, he had to swallow it. Although he handled most affairs of the Poison Sect himself, others might be unaware, but how could he not know? There was more to this than outsiders realized.

He quickly feigned sudden realization, then stood and bowed to Mu Yan. “It was my oversight—please forgive my earlier rudeness.”

Mu Yan shrank back, forcing out a stiff smile. “N-no, Immortal Master, you… you do me too much honor.”

At that moment, the previously silent Shi Duanchang spoke up. “He deserves it. If you don’t believe me, ask Immortal Master Poison himself.”

Mu Yan shuddered and turned stiffly. “Immortal Master, you…”

Poison Thousand Hands clenched his hands in his sleeves, eyes momentarily fierce before he forced a hearty laugh. “Yes, you deserve it.” One day, I’ll kill you. And you too, Shi Duanchang.

Shi Duanchang’s expression did not change, remaining serene.

Mu Yan replied dryly, “Immortal Master, you exaggerate.”

With that, he felt utterly drained. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced desperately at the entrance. Master, sect leader… if you don’t come soon, I…

Just as he was hoping, it wasn’t his master or sect leader who arrived, but someone unexpected. He was overjoyed and hurried out to greet them.

He had just opened his mouth when the newcomer stopped him, led their followers inside, and halted before Poison Thousand Hands. With hands clasped behind their back and head turned slightly, they asked, “What is the punishment for trespassing in a sect without invitation?”

Mu Yan swallowed hard, and after a long moment, managed to squeeze out the words.

“Trespassers in the sect—death.”

Instantly, the hall fell deathly silent…