Gu Chengming gazed at the night scene before him, the whole sky awash in red haze, and a wave of feeling stirred in him.
This, he supposed, counted as forging a bond.
If this were one of those Galgames he'd played in his past life, Elder Little Yu's words just now would have amounted to formally stepping onto her dedicated personal route. After all, even the dialogue options had popped up.
On the other side, Yu Wenqiu stole a glance at Gu Chengming from the corner of her eye, and a knot of vexation tightened in her chest.
Moments ago, beneath such a superb view, with the mood set just right, it had been a perfect chance to speak her heart.
All she'd needed was to be a little more direct. Even a single line like "I want to walk the road ahead together with you" would have been a hundred times better than that string of nonsense she'd blurted out.
You truly are a useless good-for-nothing, Yu Wenqiu!
What was "write storybooks for the rest of my life" supposed to mean? Who on earth could make sense of a line like that?!
Yu Wenqiu was painfully aware that she'd choked at the critical moment and shrunk back like a coward, and when she saw that Gu Chengming's face stayed gentle after hearing her out — no dawning realization, no faint reddening of the ears, nothing out of the ordinary — her vexation only deepened.
Just as she'd feared, Little Gu hadn't caught the meaning behind her words at all.
Ah, never mind. Never mind.
The art of war says: the first drumbeat rouses courage, the second lets it flag, the third exhausts it.
The nerve she'd borrowed from who-knew-where a moment ago had long since scattered on the evening wind. The Yu Wenqiu of this moment had sunk fully into ostrich mode, unable to summon a shred of daring, wanting nothing more than to bury her face in the sand and play dead.
We who are sword cultivators should keep our eyes on the road ahead.
As for the perilous trial of laying her heart bare before Little Gu — best to leave it for another day, when a surer opportunity presented itself, and deliberate on it then.
The little figure in Yu Wenqiu's heart was, at that very moment, squatting on the ground drawing circles, consoling herself as she drew.
She gave a soft cough, tucked both hands back into her wide sleeves, and spoke with feigned composure:
"Alright, it's getting late. The wind up here in this Star-Plucking Tower is giving this Elder a bit of a chill. Time to head home."
Gu Chengming smiled and answered, "Very well, as the Elder says. Let's head back now."
In the days that followed, the skies over the Capital were exceptionally clear, and Gu Chengming and Yu Wenqiu enjoyed a rare stretch of peace.
Still, the road of a cultivator does not lie in worldly splendor, and the matter of returning to the sect naturally rose to the top of the agenda.
Several days later.
The odds and ends that needed handing over and settling in the Capital were finally wrapped up. The turmoil left in the wake of the Tianque Secret Realm gradually subsided, and the decree awarding merit had been issued for all to see.
The name Gu Chengming stirred no small waves in both the court of the Great Qian and its cultivation world — but to Gu Chengming himself, such empty fame was worth far less than the concrete reality of returning to the Wenjian Sect.
It was time to set out for home.
Before departing, Gu Chengming set aside half a day to pay his farewells to the various acquaintances he'd made in the Capital.
He went first to the Hidden Dragon Court.
Li Dujiang, Song Qing, and the rest of his colleagues dragged him off and plied him with several bowls of send-off wine. Everyone knew that his return to the sect for the grand tournament would be a tiger loosed back into the mountains — he was sure to shine before all the great schools — and their words brimmed with envy and admiration.
After that he went to the Medical College of the Imperial Academy. Li Suizhuang was tending spirit herbs in the medicine garden; hearing that he was leaving, she only smiled gently and handed him a few vials of top-grade healing pills she'd compounded herself, cautioning him not to run wild in battle just because his body was tough.
As for Vice Commander Liu, he was buried in official duties at the time. Gu Chengming merely caught sight of him from afar, and the two exchanged a cupped-fist salute — everything understood without a word.
Last of all, Gu Chengming made a special trip to the Artifact Forging Workshop on the back hill of the Night-Watch Bureau, hoping to bid farewell to that Senior Qin Qing.
Sadly, though the furnace fires in the workshop still burned, the man himself was nowhere to be found. The apprentices helping out there said Senior Qin had left a letter a few days prior, saying he'd been struck by inspiration and had set off to roam in search of forging materials.
Unable to say goodbye in person, Gu Chengming felt a twinge of regret, but he knew Senior Qin had always done as the whim took him. So he left word through someone and turned to go.
With that, every strand of cause and effect in the Capital had been neatly tied off.
Gu Chengming lingered no longer. Together with Yu Wenqiu, he made for the rendezvous point outside the city and boarded the sect's flying vessel, which had been waiting for some time.
With a roar from the formation core, the massive hull tore free of the earth and rose.
The autumn air was crisp and clear, the sky cloudless for ten thousand li.
A flying vessel bearing the crest of the Wenjian Sect cut through the sea of clouds, racing southward.
On the deck, Gu Chengming sat cross-legged, seemingly deep in eyes-closed breathing exercises. In truth, his Sea of Consciousness was anything but quiet.
The Sword-Burial Clan he had refined by main force now hung like a towering iron-grey island in the sky, thousands of zhang directly above the vessel, holding in perfect sync with it.
To cultivators of shallow attainment, or to ordinary mortals, the distance was too great and the cloud cover too thick — of course they could see nothing of so world-shaking a sight. But to high cultivators of the Fourth and Fifth Realms, that vast mountain mass and the thick sword intent pouring off it was like a giant torch lit in the night sky, ostentatious to the utmost.
And to keep the Sword-Burial Clan aloft, and to draw in as much of its leaking sword intent as possible so no innocents came to harm, Gu Chengming had to peel off a great share of his focus and spiritual power at all times just to maintain the disguise.
They'd been flying less than half a day, and already Gu Chengming felt the spiritual power draining out of him like water through an opened sluice gate — rather more than he could comfortably bear.
In his Sea of Consciousness, the various techniques reacted each in their own way.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance, somewhat puzzled: Why must Heavenly Emperor Gu skulk and conceal? A divine peak like this ought to be paraded so all under heaven may behold our matchless, peerless splendor!]
Old Hundred, not everyone gets to bask in protagonist's plot armor like you.
Having finished his mental retort, Gu Chengming fell to pondering.
This Sword-Burial Clan was simply too enormous. Sustaining the concealment and disguise with his own spiritual power was no long-term plan.
But if he could buy tens of thousands of Concealment Talismans and plaster them over every formation node of the Sword-Burial Clan, it might replace the drain on his own spiritual power.
His mind made up, Gu Chengming steered the vessel toward the nearest bustling cultivation city-state below and brought it down in a slow descent.
The city-state was called Fallen Star City, the largest gathering place for rogue cultivators and merchant guilds within a radius of several thousand li. Gu Chengming left Yu Wenqiu aboard the vessel to rest, changed into an unremarkable grey robe, and entered the city alone.
It took a full two hours. Gu Chengming all but swept through more than a dozen talisman shops, large and small, across the city. Seeing how freely he spent — buying Concealment Talismans by the sackful — every shopkeeper took him for some steward from a great sect out procuring materials for its grand formation, and each offered him their lowest rock-bottom price.
Thoroughly satisfied, Gu Chengming hung several storage pouches stuffed with Concealment Talismans at his waist and turned to walk out the city gate, ready to leap skyward and return to the vessel moored in a hidden spot outside.
Just then, a voice carrying a gentle warmth drifted, quite naturally, from his side.
"Fellow Daoist, a moment, please. From the look of you, hurrying along like this — could it be you're also rushing back to your sect for its grand tournament? To meet is to share a bond of fate. Might I ask which school, which lineage, you were taught in?"
Gu Chengming's step faltered, and something stirred in him.
This man's breath-hiding art was exquisite. Had he not spoken up of his own accord, Gu Chengming wouldn't even have noticed at first that the other had drawn so close. To command such a skill, this was no ordinary figure.
Sizing him up in a rough reckoning, Gu Chengming judged the newcomer to be at least peak Fourth Realm — quite possibly a great cultivator who had already stepped into the Fifth.
Gu Chengming turned around without any change of expression.
Meeting his gaze was an old man in a blue Daoist robe washed pale with age, crane-white hair over a youthful face, a seemingly ordinary whisk in his hand. He watched Gu Chengming with a squinting smile, his eyes carrying a measure of appraisal but no trace of hostility.
To be safe, Gu Chengming quietly circulated the Red Dust Art, and only after confirming that the man's aura was steady all through, with not the faintest malice, did he offer a slight cupped-fist salute and answer, courteous and composed, neither servile nor arrogant:
"In reply to Senior — this junior was taught in the Wenjian Sect. Might I ask your honored name?"
At the three words "Wenjian Sect," the smile on the blue-robed old man's face stiffened for an almost imperceptible instant.
He stroked the beard on his chin without a flicker of change and thought to himself: this is bad.
This old man was no stranger. He was none other than the Sword-Point Elder of the Wenjian Sect's Guizang Gate lineage, by the name of Han Che.
Elder Han Che had been stuck at the peak of the Fifth Realm for several decades. In his search for that faint, elusive chance to break through to the Sixth, he had spent long years roaming abroad, rarely returning to the sect.
Of course, apart from chasing that opportunity, there were other reasons he stayed away for so long — reasons not fit to be aired to outsiders.
This time, with the sect's once-a-decade grand tournament at hand, he'd wanted to look in on behalf of the others and see how the Wenjian Sect fared these days, and so he had ridden his sword home.
And then, as he passed over Fallen Star City on his sword, he'd sensed a ripple of Dharma-Station.
He'd looked up — and there, above the ninth layer of clouds, hung a mountain peak of iron-grey, vast beyond measure, suspended at the edge of the sky. Countless Dharma Swords, radiating a bitter, frigid light, jutted downward from it in dense profusion, and about the whole of it wreathed sword-intent law so thick it was nearly solid.
A Dharma-Station Wonder!
Han Che had sucked in a cold breath on the spot. Anyone able to master and manifest so complete a Dharma-Station Wonder was, at the very least, a standout among Fifth Realm cultivators.
By the common sense of the cultivation world, once any cultivator was lucky enough to obtain and take the first grasp of the clues to a Dharma-Station, the very best thing to do was to find some remote mountain wilderness no one knew of, dodge the ears and eyes of every fellow practitioner, and quietly reap the harvest — until the information of the Dharma-Station was fully confirmed.
But this fellow up in the sky did the opposite. Far from hiding it away, he had hoisted so vast a Dharma-Station Wonder overhead like a banner and swaggered through the streets with it in full view.
In all honesty, in his many years wandering the Great Qian, Han Che had seen the arrogant and he had seen the mad, but he had never once seen anyone conduct himself with such brazen swagger.
Driven by fierce curiosity, Han Che worked up his nerve and trailed after him from a distance.
And so he'd watched that mountain come to rest above Fallen Star City.
And this madman — who had refined a Dharma-Station Wonder and hung a whole mountain in the sky — had, of all things, disguised his own cultivation to flawless perfection as a green Third Realm cultivator fresh out of the gate!
You've already refined a Dharma-Station Wonder and displayed it this brazenly — what's the point of disguising your realm?
Han Che was rather at a loss, though he chalked it up to the man's eccentricity.
Out of a mind to test him, and to satisfy the curiosity he couldn't put to rest, he'd finally been unable to hold back — he'd shown himself and stepped forward to strike up a conversation.
No, wait — you're of the Wenjian Sect, so where does that leave me?
He hadn't exposed the man; and, thinking back over the string of frankly bizarre behavior, Han Che felt a strange unease and wondered whether he was being fished for.
The thought struck, and cold sweat instantly soaked through the back of his robe.
If he didn't know what was good for him, if he lingered here pressing questions, or even carelessly let slip that he was the real Wenjian Sect Elder and exposed this old monster's lie to his face — a duel could hardly be avoided.
And in his current state he was in no shape to duel anyone, least of all someone of the same realm.
The more Han Che thought about it, the more his heart pounded with dread.
"So you're a distinguished disciple of the Wenjian Sect! My respects, my respects!"
Han Che saluted again and again, his feet already retreating of their own accord. "This old one is but a nameless rogue cultivator, a rustic bumpkin, not worth a mention."
He wiped a smear of cold sweat from his brow and spoke at a breakneck clip:
"This old one has just remembered — there's a pot of century-old lingzhi soup stewing on the stove. If I get back too late, it'll boil dry. I'll trouble you no further on your journey home. The mountains are high and the rivers long — we'll meet again! Farewell! Farewell!"
Before the words had even finished, Han Che, sparing not a thought for the dignity of a lofty master, summoned his flying sword outright. A streak of blue light flashed, and this Sword-Point Elder of the Guizang Gate bolted into the clouds like a stray dog fleeing for its life, vanishing without a trace in the blink of an eye.
Gu Chengming stood rooted in place, still holding two sacks of Concealment Talismans, staring in blank astonishment at that streak of sword-light careening off in a panic.
An autumn gust swept past, carrying a few fallen leaves aloft.
So what, exactly, had that man come here to do?
The way this lofty master conducted himself was utterly baffling.
Puzzled, Gu Chengming checked himself over several times running but found no ward, nor any hidden trick the man might have left behind. Only after confirming that no other concealed expert lurked nearby testing him did he return, somewhat hesitant, to the vessel.
Aboard the vessel.
Yu Wenqiu was lounging idly in a rocking chair on the deck, a dog's-tail grass — snapped off from who-knew-where — in her hand, teasing the fat orange cat that lay there purring.
Seeing Gu Chengming return, she straightened at once, her gaze falling on the several bulging storage pouches at his waist.
"Buying a few talismans took you this long? And you bought this many?" Yu Wenqiu asked, curious.
"There were lots of shops in the city. Comparing prices among three sellers ate up some time," Gu Chengming said, unfastening the pouches as he spoke.
He thought of that odd little episode and passed it along to Yu Wenqiu as a bit of a joke:
"Just now at the city gate I ran into a strange fellow. That old man was of very high cultivation, his breath-hiding art second to none. He came up on his own to ask which school and lineage I hailed from. But the moment I said I was taught in the Wenjian Sect, he broke into a cold sweat, spun some laughably clumsy excuse, and rode his sword off so fast I couldn't even catch his shadow. Elder, tell me — is there really someone in the Great Qian who'd be scared witless just from hearing our sect's name?"
Yu Wenqiu listened, her lovely brows drawing together, and rubbed her chin in thought a moment.
"An old man of very high cultivation, breath-hiding art second to none? And he bolted at the mention of the Wenjian Sect?"
Yu Wenqiu ran it through her mind, then pursed her lips.
"Pay him no mind. The wide world is full of strange things, and there are plenty of cracked-brained lunatics among the rogue cultivators."
She waved a hand, plainly not taking it to heart. "We'll head straight back to the Wenjian Sect. Whoever he is, he wouldn't dare force his way in."
Gu Chengming smiled and agreed. Sacks in hand, he set to work at each of the Sword-Burial Clan's Formation Eyes.
As Concealment Talisman after Concealment Talisman went up, the towering iron-grey mass gradually turned transparent, until at last it melded seamlessly into the surrounding sea of clouds, no longer leaking so much as a wisp of aura.
The vessel roared once more, splitting the vast sky, bound for the Wenjian Sect.
Several days later, the familiar unbroken silhouette of mountains at last leapt into view.
And at that very moment, deep in the heart of those ranges, a small stir was quietly brewing.
The Wenjian Sect — its rolling peaks hidden among an ethereal sea of clouds.
Outside the main hall of the central peak, the sect head Shen Ganqiu stood at the edge of a cliff. The hidden injuries left on him by the Tianque Secret Realm had stabilized, and now, facing the cold, clear wind, he was turning over the coming matters of the grand tournament.
Just then, from the far reaches of the sky came an extremely sharp shriek of tearing air — the sword qi had not yet arrived, but its edge came first, cleaving a long rift straight through the sea of clouds.
Shen Qianqiu looked up, his eyes flaring bright.
The newcomer's aura he knew all too well — it was that Sword-Point Elder of the Guizang Gate, wandering abroad these many years: Han Che.
Speaking of this Elder Han, in today's Wenjian Sect he ranked, beyond any doubt, as a senior of very high seniority.
Ever since the previous old sect head had led away many of the sect's veteran elders and vanished none knew where, the Wenjian Sect had entered a long stretch of lean, thin years.
Elders senior even to Shen Ganqiu could be counted on one hand, and Han Che was one of the few who remained.
Shen Ganqiu straightened his robes at once and was about to step forward in welcome when a streak of blue sword-light crashed down to earth.
Han Che was travel-worn, and his landing even kicked up a gust with a faintly flustered edge to it.
Seeing Shen Qianqiu coming toward him, he raised a hand and waved it hard, signaling to skip all the pomp and formality.
Shen Qianqiu obligingly stopped where he was and called out with a smile:
"Elder Han, so you've finally deigned to return. The Tianque Secret Realm has only just concluded, and I've been fretting over this tournament business—"
He was about to lay out in detail the earth-shaking upheaval within the Tianque Secret Realm, and the matter of Gu Chengming, but he'd barely begun when Han Che cut him off, most brusquely.
"Never mind Secret Realm this and Secret Realm that!"
Han Che's brows were knit tight. He strode right up to Shen Qianqiu, lowered his voice, and asked in an urgent rush:
"You tell me honestly — has our Wenjian Sect offended some formidable figure out there of late?"
Shen Ganqiu was thoroughly bewildered by the question. "Offended someone? Apart from those Eternal Life Sect demons, our Wenjian Sect has always conducted itself properly. We haven't made an enemy of any great power. Why do you ask, Elder Han?"
At his words, Han Che's face, far from easing, only grew uglier.
He drew a deep breath and poured out his encounter outside Fallen Star City like beans tipped from a bamboo tube.
"You've no idea. On my way back to the sect just now, I met the most sinister fellow! His cultivation was unfathomably deep, and above his head hung a whole sword-mountain, condensed entirely from a Dharma-Station Wonder!"
The more Han Che spoke, the more the fear crept back, and his words tumbled out fast: "By all rights, a reclusive power who'd grasped a chance like that — which of them wouldn't hide it away, sealed up tight? But that man not only flaunted the Dharma-Station Wonder openly and swaggered through the streets with it, he even went out of his way to disguise his own realm as a mere Third Realm!"
As Shen Ganqiu listened, his expression began to turn peculiar. A sword-mountain overhead? Disguised as Third Realm? Why did that sound so awfully familiar?
"I stepped up to test him, and he had the gall to claim, without batting an eye, that he was a disciple of our Wenjian Sect!"
Han Che slapped his thigh hard and reached his aggrieved, bitter conclusion:
"That old monster must bear some old grudge against our Wenjian Sect. He's deliberately flying our banner to swindle and deceive, luring out the greedy from every quarter so he can seize the chance to rob and kill! Keep this up, and won't he ruin our Wenjian Sect's good name clean through? As sect head, you must be on your guard!"
Shen Ganqiu heard out this impassioned analysis, opened his mouth, and was just about to explain when a stir came again from the edge of the sky.
A flying vessel bearing the crest of the Wenjian Sect leisurely broke through the sea of clouds, descending toward the plaza of the central peak.
Han Che looked up on instinct — and the next moment his scalp went numb:
"That old monster's chased us all the way to the sect! Shen Ganqiu, quick, raise the mountain-guarding formation!"
Just as Han Che braced himself as though facing a mortal foe, ready to draw his sword and fight to the death, the vessel had already settled steadily to the ground.
The hatch opened, and out came Gu Chengming, with Yu Wenqiu following behind.
Han Che fixed his stare on Gu Chengming's face, looking for all the world like a man seeing a ghost in broad daylight.
Beside him, Shen Qianqiu not only made no move to raise the mountain-guarding formation — he went forward wreathed in smiles, his eyes full of admiration.
"Chengming, Elder Yu, you're finally back." Shen Qianqiu greeted them with a smile.
Gu Chengming and Yu Wenqiu stepped up to pay their respects. Gu Chengming's gaze swept over casually and happened to land on the old man beside them, the one with the odd look on his face.
He recognized the man at once — the very same strange fellow who'd fled in a rout at the mere name of the Wenjian Sect outside Fallen Star City.
It dawned on Gu Chengming: this man was no rogue cultivator at all, but a senior of his own sect.
He immediately gave a respectful cupped-fist salute.
Shen Qianqiu turned and introduced them to Han Che:
"Elder Han, allow me to present them. This is Elder Yu. And as for this one — he's the very disciple I was about to mention to you, the outstanding disciple who rendered our Wenjian Sect its foremost merit within the Tianque Secret Realm this time: Gu Chengming."
Han Che looked at Shen Qianqiu, then at Gu Chengming, then lifted his eyes to that faintly visible Sword-Burial Clan in the sky, and for a moment couldn't quite make sense of it.
Seeing this, Shen Qianqiu recounted, from start to finish, everything that had happened within the Tianque Secret Realm.
From the Eternal Life Sect's thousand-year scheme, to how Gu Chengming had blasted a Fifth Realm demonic cultivator to death, to how he'd severed the inheritance link and turned a Dharma-Station into the rule of Peace Under Heaven — and finally how he'd refined the whole Sword Burial Tomb and carried it home besides.
Listening to these deeds of Gu Chengming from Shen Qianqiu's mouth, Han Che opened and shut his mouth, feeling it all beyond belief.
So the gold content of a Wenjian Sect disciple had climbed this high these days?
No, wait — I was only gone from the sect a few decades. Where did this monster spring from?
After a brief stupor, Han Che swallowed hard and finally, just barely, digested this absurd reality.
With Shen Qianqiu's whole account laid out, Han Che at last realized he'd made a fool of himself over a misunderstanding.
Still, he grumbled inwardly: put anyone in his shoes, and who wouldn't have blundered into such a misunderstanding?
Grumbling aside, though, the more Han Che heard, the more pleased he grew.
Talent and the temper of a true sword cultivator both — such a pity he hadn't been in the sect, and so hadn't spotted this fine jade of a lad sooner.
He wondered which lucky elder in the sect it was who'd struck such heaven-sent fortune as to take on a disciple like this.
Thinking so, the awkwardness on Han Che's face had long since vanished. He put on the kindly smile of an elder and asked, brimming with curiosity:
"Ahem, Chengming — might I ask which elder of the Guizang Gate you took as master?"
In his view, a born sword cultivator like this should — and could only — enter the Guizang Gate of the Wenjian Sect.
At this question, the smile that had filled Shen Ganqiu's face abruptly gave way to a look of awkwardness.
He cleared his throat, seemingly at a loss for how to broach it.
Gu Chengming, for his part, was frank. He saluted again and answered, "In reply to Elder Han — this disciple hails from the Huiyuan Gate, taught under Ren Wencai."
A draft swept across the plaza of the central peak's main hall.
The smile froze solid on Han Che's face. It was a good while before he came around, and, as though doubting his own ears, he asked haltingly, "Who?"
Gu Chengming repeated it once more.
Having heard the name clearly a second time, Han Che very nearly burst out laughing in sheer exasperation.
Others might not know Ren Wencai's true measure, but he, Han Che, knew it all too well!
That Ren Wencai was of mediocre talent, his swordplay unremarkable, and he'd clawed his way through survival on nothing but a viciousness no one could match and the most shameless life-saving tricks — flinging lime and hurling poison-mist at a strong foe, digging tunnels to flee; and against the weak, lurking in the shadows to club them senseless.
To have that spiteful old wretch teach a fine jade like Gu Chengming? Truly the heavens had no eyes.
Of course, blunt as Han Che's temper was, he was, after all, a slippery old hand who'd lived over a hundred years.
To curse out a man's master as a spiteful, shameless scoundrel right in front of that man's own disciple — such a graceless thing he naturally couldn't bring himself to do.
The corner of his mouth twitched into a most strained, dry smile, and he turned his head to shoot Shen Qianqiu a fierce glare, its meaning plain as day:
You, the sect head of the Wenjian Sect — you just stood by and watched a fine jade like this fall into that old wretch Ren Wencai's hands to be squandered?! What kind of sect head are you?!
Glared at until he squirmed all over, Shen Ganqiu could only heave a helpless sigh and defend Ren Wencai in a low voice: "Peace, Elder Han. Elder Ren — he found a chance on the outer fringes of the Tianque Secret Realm a few days back, and he's already broken through to the Fifth Realm now."
Shen Ganqiu's implication was clear: Ren Wencai was, at least, a bona fide Fifth Realm cultivator now.
A Fifth Realm great one as master could, by any measure, hardly be counted as bringing shame on Gu Chengming.
At this, Han Che was a little taken aback, and muttered grudgingly:
"Well, he did luck into a stroke of dumb fortune."
Never mind that the reputation of one's own master seemed to be remarkably consistent no matter where one went.
The talk in the great hall did not last long — after all, as senior figures of the sect, Shen Qianqiu and Han Che had a great many confidential tournament affairs to deliberate behind closed doors.
Seeing this, Gu Chengming tactfully found a pretext and excused himself.
After parting from Shen Qianqiu and the Guizang Gate Elder Han Che at the central peak's main hall, the news of Gu Chengming's quiet return to the Wenjian Sect was not broadcast loudly through the sect.
Aside from a handful of core seniors, the rank-and-file disciples had no idea that this fellow disciple, now so renowned in the outside world, had returned to the mountain.
Gu Chengming was happy enough for the quiet. Alone, he followed the familiar mountain paths to call on a few old acquaintances.
He went first to the Internal Affairs Hall and saw Elder Liu Enchuan. This senior, who had shown Gu Chengming much kindness back in the day, said "good" several times over at the sight of him safe and sound with his cultivation greatly advanced, his words full of gratified warmth.
After that, Gu Chengming turned toward the training grounds and found Jiang Lu, who was there instructing newly admitted disciples.
It had been a few years since they'd met. Jiang Lu had grown a little taller, the callow greenness gone from his brow, replaced by a measure of steadiness.
The spiritual power circulating about him pulsed steady and firm — he had, plainly, already stepped into the Second Realm.
In truth, for an ordinary disciple whose aptitude was far from top-tier, breaking through to the Second Realm in the span of a few short years was a pace of cultivation that could be called quite swift.
In past sect tournaments, such a result would surely have shone brightly and drawn the sidelong regard of many an elder.
The instant Jiang Lu saw Gu Chengming appear, he was first stunned, and then a smile of genuine delight bloomed across his face.
He hurried forward, about to make small talk and, in passing, quietly share his good news with this once-admired senior brother — only to see that Gu Chengming was already nearing the mid-Third Realm, and that little flush of self-satisfaction was snuffed out at once.
He'd long known his own gifts couldn't compare to Senior Brother Gu's, yet the sense of being so hopelessly out of reach was, inevitably, a touch disheartening.
Even so, Jiang Lu was truly happy for Gu Chengming.
"Senior Brother Gu!"
Jiang Lu saluted solemnly, his smile utterly sincere: "Your cultivation and renown now truly command the admiration of us fellow disciples. That you've returned safe and sound — it's simply wonderful!"
Gu Chengming clapped Jiang Lu on the shoulder and offered his old friend a few words of encouragement. The two exchanged a smile, everything understood without a word.
The sun sank behind the western hills, and the evening glow dyed the folded ranges of the Wenjian Sect in a splendid gold-red.
Gu Chengming took his leave of Jiang Lu and, alone, followed the winding stone steps back to that small courtyard on the back hill of the Huiyuan Gate.
He pushed open the courtyard gate, and the sight that met his eyes rather surprised him.
He'd assumed that after years away from the sect, this out-of-the-way little courtyard would surely be overgrown with weeds and thick with dust. But to his surprise, the bluestone flags in the yard were clean and lustrous as ever, the few spirit-bamboo in the corner trimmed into a pleasing arrangement, and even the grain of the stone table was clearly visible, without the slightest veil of dust.
He pushed open the door, and the furnishings within remained just as he'd left them — the bedding on the couch folded neat and square, the air even carrying a faint, crisp freshness, the scent of things sunned dry.
Clearly, throughout the years he'd been away, someone had been diligently and devotedly keeping this dwelling clean for him.
Gu Chengming stood in the middle of the room, taking in all this familiar, homely warmth, and a great many feelings welled up in him.
Gone so long, and still someone had quietly swept this little courtyard for him — such devotion was genuinely moving.
Night fell, and the mountain wind swept through the bamboo grove with a soft rustling.
Gu Chengming settled cross-legged on the couch and let his mind sink fully into stillness.
Now that he'd returned to the safest of places, the sect — no demonic cultivators lurking about, every loose end already tied off — he could at last spare the time to study, at his leisure, that system in his mind.
He closed his eyes, and his consciousness plunged in an instant into the depths of his Sea of Consciousness.
Open — the Love Laboratory!
At the stir of his thought, Gu Chengming's field of vision was once more replaced by a stretch of pure white space. He walked steadily along a corridor paved in grey mist, his gaze sweeping the two sides.
With the prerequisites met, the two other doors that had been locked — the Love Qingxin Formula and the Love Hundred Bones Resonance — had quietly shed the plain bronze locks upon them. The grey mist had receded, and both now stood in a ready-to-conquer state, waiting to be pushed open at any time.
Gu Chengming stood at the center of the corridor, deep in thought.
Ever since the bond quest of the Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method had been completed, the Hundred Bones Resonance had, for reasons unknown, gone off in some fit of enthusiasm, endlessly clamoring for Gu Chengming to join her in vanquishing a mighty foe.
And now that things had finally quieted down again, he could at last slowly attempt to challenge the Love Hundred Bones Resonance.
The Clear-Heart Formula was likewise eager to have her own room conquered, only — seeing the Hundred Bones Resonance in so much more of a hurry — she covered her mouth and laughed softly, ceding the opportunity to the Hundred Bones Resonance.
From this alone, the breadth of this woman's forbearance was frankly terrifying.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance cried out: Heavenly Emperor Gu! The moment has come! Follow me and trample the mighty foe within that room flat!]
Gu Chengming gave a helpless smile, stepped up to the door of the Love Hundred Bones Resonance, and reached out to push open that heavy portal.
The instant he crossed the threshold, the surroundings transformed in a rush.
This was not the stone platform hovering above a bottomless abyss he'd seen before in the Love Huiyuan Sword Formula room.
In its place was a vast, utterly barren training ground where not a blade of grass grew, strewn everywhere with dark-red rock. The sky bore an oppressive iron-grey, and a howling wind whipped up sand and dust across the whole expanse, thick with an air of grim slaughter and untamed wildness.
Gu Chengming steadied his mind and lifted his eyes.
At the very center of the training ground, a figure stood quietly.
This time, the other was not, as in the Huiyuan Sword Formula room, a pale outline of light whose very features couldn't be made out. Her form was rather clear — every detail distinct. She wore a trim, close-fitting martial garb, her long hair bound high and streaming wild in the gale; her face brimmed with heroic spirit, and between her brows sat an arrogance that looked down on all under heaven.
The moment Gu Chengming saw this figure, his expression turned exceedingly complicated.
Wasn't this just the Hundred Emperor?
And at that moment, the genuine Hundred Bones Resonance, waiting in his Sea of Consciousness, having made out the phantom's likeness, flew into a towering rage.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance, incensed to the point of steaming: Preposterous! A mere illusion dares to strut and swagger here wearing this Heavenly Emperor's own august visage?! That there should be so shameless a counterfeit?! Heavenly Emperor Gu, thrash her soundly for me!]
Gu Chengming clenched his fist, and the bones throughout his body cracked with a rolling report like beans popping in a hot pan, the mighty blood-and-qi force within him surging in an instant to its utmost.
With the experience of his last challenge against the Huiyuan Sword Formula, he knew full well that the guardian of this room was, without doubt, the theoretical strongest form that this technique could reach once every external limit was stripped away.
Against such a mighty foe, he dared not take her lightly in the slightest.
Yet, unlike that pale figure in the Love Huiyuan Sword Formula room, which had launched a thunderous assault the moment they met, this "Hundred Bones Resonance phantom" before him, upon seeing Gu Chengming braced for battle, seemed distinctly uninterested.
She stood there at ease, not even bothering with an opening stance. She merely tilted up her chin, cast Gu Chengming a glance, then slowly raised her right hand and crooked a finger at him.
[Seeing this, the Hundred Bones Resonance in his Sea of Consciousness raged all the harder: Granted she carries no small measure of this Heavenly Emperor's bearing — but to humiliate Heavenly Emperor Gu right in front of me is the same as humiliating me!]
[Heavenly Emperor Gu! Hold nothing back! Let's go at her straightaway! Use that move! Show this counterfeit what true power means!]
Gu Chengming naturally knew exactly which move the Hundred Bones Resonance meant by "that move."
It was that dedicated CG finisher, its multiplier utterly monstrous, that had won marvel after marvel in the Northern Territory — "Hundred Emperor, aid me!"
And yet a doubt nagged at Gu Chengming, and he even sensed, faintly, that something was off.
However earth-shattering the power of "Hundred Emperor, aid me," its greatest weakness was the far too long windup. Facing an opponent that embodied the theoretical limit of the Hundred Bones Resonance, would she really stand and watch him finish reading the cast bar on his ultimate? Could he truly use it here?
Just as Gu Chengming wavered in indecision, the "Hundred Bones Resonance phantom" ahead seemed to see straight through his thoughts.
She sighed, rather bored, and then simply straightened up.
Unhurriedly, she patted the nonexistent dust from the collar of her martial garb, and then spread her arms wide.
The meaning was unmistakable: I'll stand right here, not dodging, not flinching — hit me as you please.
Watching the other be so overconfident as to lay every last opening bare before him without reservation, Gu Chengming harbored no suspicion.
If you dare to take it, then I dare to strike!
"Very well then — as you wish!"
Gu Chengming let out a roaring shout and no longer held the force within him in check.
His legs slammed down with sudden power, and the dark-red rock beneath his feet crumbled to powder in an instant. Borne by that terrifying recoil, Gu Chengming's form shot forward like a cannonball leaving the barrel, crossing dozens of zhang in a single blink.
At the same time, he sent out that thoroughly practiced cry from the depths of his heart.
"Hundred Emperor, aid me!"
The light of the dedicated CG burst upon his right fist in an instant, and in the void it was as though countless ancient, primeval emperor-phantoms overlapped upon that single strike. The blood-and-qi force erupted like a volcano, carrying a heaven-rending, earth-shattering might, and smashed straight for the phantom's chest!
Even the howling wind was torn apart before this supremely mighty punch, letting out a piercing sonic crack.
And yet, faced with this fist that could blast an ordinary Fifth Realm cultivator into grave injury, the "Hundred Bones Resonance phantom" made good on her stance.
At the very instant that fist, blazing with terrifying blood and qi, was about to touch her chest, the phantom merely raised one hand with the utmost carelessness — her five fingers not even fully spread.
"Crack—!!!"
A dull, deadened sound of impact detonated over the training ground.
No world-shaking explosion. No shockwave spilling out in all directions. Gu Chengming's ultimate finisher — every ounce of his essence, energy, and spirit gathered, its multiplier maxed — was like striking an unshakable Mount Buzhou. The instant all that force met the phantom's palm, it vanished like a clay ox sinking into the sea, gone without a trace.
Bare-handed, the phantom had caught the punch with the utmost ease.
Not even the rock beneath her feet showed the faintest crack.
The phantom slowly lowered her head, looked at the fist halted in her palm, and on that heroic, spirited face there surfaced a trace of disappointment.
Then, the other hand that hung at her side loosely balled into a fist — she didn't even deliberately gather force — and, light and offhand, threw a punch straight ahead.
"BOOM!"
Gu Chengming couldn't even track the punch's path. He only felt a terrifying, mighty power — one utterly beyond words, one that surpassed the very concept of force itself — pour down upon his body in an instant.
His vision plunged in a flash into absolute darkness.
The next moment, Gu Chengming's eyes snapped open.
He found himself already slumped on the couch, gasping in great heaving breaths, his brow beaded with cold sweat.
Around him was the familiar dwelling on the Huiyuan Gate's back hill — no iron-grey sky, no dark-red training ground anywhere in sight.
That single punch had knocked him clean out of the CG interface of the Love Laboratory.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance had been thoroughly dumbstruck as well.]
[It stammered out: Heavenly Emperor Gu, this thing really does seem a bit… invincible.]
[So what should we do about it next?]
Gu Chengming wiped the cold sweat from his brow.
Damn it — the DPS beta-test check has arrived.
____
Gift for Everyone: Once we hit 20 Powerstones, I'll release +1 bonus chapter
________________________________________
If you want more chapters, please consider supporting my page on (P). with 50 advanced chapters available on (P)
👻 Join the crew by searching Leanzin on (P). You know the spot! 😉